CAMPING  & 
TRAMPING 

WITH 

ROOSEVELT 

BY  JOHN  BURROUGHS 


UC-NRLF 


III    135 


WORKS,  ig  vola.,  uniform,  i6mo,  with  frontispiece,  gilt 
top. 

WAKE-ROBIN. 

WINTER  SUNSHINE. 

LOCUSTS  AND  WILD  HONBY. 

FRESH  FIELDS. 

INDOOR  STUDIES. 

BIRDS  AND  POETS,  with  Other  Papers. 

PBPACTON,  and  Other  Sketches. 

SIGNS  AND  SEASONS. 

RIVBRBY. 

WHITMAN  :  A  STUDY. 

THE  LIGHT  OF  DAY. 

LITERARY  VALUES. 

FAR  AND  NEAR. 

WAYS  OF  NATURE. 

LEAF  AND  TENDRIL. 

TIME  AND  CHANGE. 

THE  SUMMIT  OF  THB  YEARS. 

THE  BREATH  OF  LIFE. 

UNDER  THE  APPLE-TREES. 

FIELD  AND  STUDY. 

FIELD  AND  STUDY.     Riverside  Edition. 

UNDER  THE  APPLE-TREES.     Riverside  Edition. 

THE  BREATH  OF  LIFE.    Riverside  Edition. 

THE  SUMMIT  OF  THE  YEARS.     Riverside  Edition. 

TIME  AND   CHANGE.     Riverside  Edition. 

LEAF   AND   TENDRIL.     Riverside  Edition. 

WAYS   OF   NATURE.     Riverside  Edition. 

FAR   AND   NEAR.     Riverside  Edition. 

LITERARY  VALUES.     Riverside  Edition. 

THE    LIGHT   OF   DAY.     Riverside  Edition. 

WHITMAN:   A  Study.     Riverside  Edition. 

A  YEAR  IN  THE  FIELDS.  Selections  appropriate 
to  each  season  of  the  year,  from  the  writings  of  John 
Burroughs.  Illustrated  from  Photographs  by  CLIF- 
TON JOHNSON. 

IN  THE  CATSKILLS.  Illustrated  from  Photographs 
by  CLIFTON  JOHNSON. 

CAMPING  AND  TRAMPING  WITH  ROOSEVELT. 
Illustrated  from  Photographs. 

BIRD   AND    BOUGH.     Poems. 

WINTER   SUNSHINE.     Cambridge  Classics  Series. 

WAKE-ROBIN.     Riverside  Aldine  Serifs. 

SQUIRRELS  AND  OTHER  FUR-BEARERS.  Illus- 
trated. 

BIRD   STORIES  FROM   BURROUGHS.     Illustrated. 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 


THE  PRESIDENT  ON  GLACIER  POINT,  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 

From  stereograph,  copyright  1905,  by  Underwood  &  UTiderwood,  New  York 


CAMPING  &  TRAMPING 
WITH  ROOSEVELT 

BY 

JOHN   BURROUGHS 

WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 


BOSTON   AND   NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON   MIFFLIN   COMPANY 
ftitetfifc  p«#  Cambridge 


^ 


COPYRIGHT   1906  BY  HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  ft  CO. 

COPYRIGHT   1907  BY  THE  OUTLOOK  COMPANY 

COPYRIGHT   1907  BY  JOHN  BURROUGHS 


Puklishe4  October  tqpj 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

THE    PRESIDENT   ON    GLACIER    POINT,    YOSEMITE 

VALLEY Frontispiece 

ARRIVAL  AT  GARDINER,  MONTANA 10 

THE  PRESIDENT,  MR.   BURROUGHS  AND  SECRETARY 

LOEB 24 

THE  PRESIDENT  IN  THE  BEAR  COUNTRY  .     .     .     .  38 

MR.  BURROUGHS'S  FAVORITE  PASTIME     ....  50 

SUNRISE  IN  THE  YELLOWSTONE 64 

THE  PRESIDENT  ON  A  TRAIL 72 

THE  PRESIDENT'S  HOME  ON  SAGAMORE  HILL,  SHOW- 
ING ADDITION  KNOWN  AS  THE  TROPHY  RoOM  .       .       82 

A  BIT  OF  WOODLAND  ON  THE  SLOPE  TOWARDS  OYS- 
TER BAY 88 

A  PATH  IN  THE  WOODS  LEADING  TO  COLD  SPRING 
HARBOR -92 

A  YEARLING  IN  THE  APPLE  ORCHARD      .      .     .     .     98 
HALLWAY,  SAGAMORE  HILL    .     .     .     .     .     .     .106 


INTRODUCTION 

THIS  little  volume  really  needs  no  intro- 
duction; the  two  sketches  of  which  it  is 
made  explain  and,  I  hope,  justify  them- 
selves. But  there  is  one  phase  of  the 
President's  many-sided  character  upon 
which  I  should  like  to  lay  especial  em- 
phasis, namely,  his  natural  history  bent 
and  knowledge.  Amid  all  his  absorbing 
interests  and  masterful  activities  in  other 
fields,  his  interest  and  his  authority  in 
practical  natural  history  are  by  no  means 
the  least.  I  long  ago  had  very  direct  proof 
of  this  statement.  In  some  of  my  English 
sketches,  following  a  visit  to  that  island 
in  1882, 1  had,  rather  by  implication  than 
by  positive  statement,  inclined  to  the 
opinion  that  the  European  forms  of  ani- 
mal life  were,  as  a  rule,  larger  and  more 
hardy  and  prolific  than  the  corresponding 

vii 


INTRODUCTION 

forms  in  this  country.  Roosevelt  could 
not  let  this  statement  or  suggestion  go 
unchallenged,  and  the  letter  which  I  re- 
ceived from  him  in  1892,  touching  these 
things,  is  of  double  interest  at  this  time, 
as  showing  one  phase  of  his  radical 
Americanism,  while  it  exhibits  him  as  a 
thoroughgoing  naturalist.  I  am  sure  my 
readers  will  welcome  the  gist  of  this  let- 
ter. After  some  preliminary  remarks  he 
says :  — 

"The  point  of  which  I  am  speaking 
is  where  you  say  that  the  Old  World 
forms  of  animal  life  are  coarser,  stronger, 
fiercer,  and  more  fertile  than  those  of  the 
New  World."  (My  statement  was  not 
quite  so  sweeping  as  this.)  "Now  I  don't 
think  that  this  is  so;  at  least,  comparing 
the  forms  which  are  typical  of  North 
America  and  of  northern  Asia  and 
Europe,  which  together  form  but  one 
province  of  animal  life. 

viii 


INTRODUCTION 

"Many  animals  and  birds  which  in- 
crease very  fast  in  new  countries,  and 
which  are  commonly  spoken  of  as  Euro- 
pean in  their  origin,  are  really  as  alien 
to  Europe  as  to  their  new  homes.  Thus 
the  rabbit,  rat,  and  mouse  are  just  as 
truly  interlopers  in  England  as  in  the 
United  States  and  Australia,  having 
moved  thither  apparently  within  historic 
times,  the  rabbit  from  North  Africa,  the 
others  from  southern  Asia ;  and  one  could 
no  more  generalize  upon  the  comparative 
weakness  of  the  American  fauna  from 
these  cases  of  intruders  than  one  could 
generalize  from  them  upon  the  compara- 
tive weakness  of  the  British,  German, 
and  French  wild  animals.  Our  wood 
mouse  or  deer  mouse  retreats  before  the 
ordinary  house  mouse  in  exactly  the  same 
way  that  the  European  wood  mouse  does, 
and  not  a  whit  more.  Our  big  wood  rat 
stands  in  the  same  relation  to  the  house 

ix 


INTRODUCTION 

rat.  Casting  aside  these  cases,  it  seems 
to  me,  looking  at  the  mammals,  that  it 
would  be  quite  impossible  to  generalize 
as  to  whether  those  of  the  Old  or  the  New 
World  are  more  fecund,  are  the  fiercest, 
the  hardiest,  or  the  strongest.  A  great 
many  cases  could  be  cited  on  both  sides. 
Our  moose  and  caribou  are,  in  certain  of 
their  varieties,  rather  larger  than  the  Old 
World  forms  of  the  same  species.  If 
there  is  any  difference  between  the  beavers 
of  the  two  countries,  it  is  in  the  same  di- 
rection. So  with  the  great  family  of  the 
field  mice.  The  largest  true  arvicola 
seems  to  be  the  yellow-cheeked  mouse  of 
Hudson's  Bay,  and  the  biggest  represent- 
ative of  the  family  on  either  continent  is 
the  muskrat.  In  most  of  its  varieties  the 
wolf  of  North  America  seems  to  be  in- 
ferior in  strength  and  courage  to  that  of 
northern  Europe  and  Asia;  but  the  direct 
reverse  is  true  with  the  grizzly  bear,  which 


INTRODUCTION 

is  merely  a  somewhat  larger  and  fiercer 
variety  of  the  common  European  brown 
bear.  On  the  whole,  the  Old  World  bison, 
or  so-called  aurochs,  appears  to  be  some- 
what more  formidable  than  its  American 
brother;  but  the  difference  against  the 
latter  is  not  anything  like  as  great  as  the 
difference  in  favor  of  the  American  wapiti, 
which  is  nothing  but  a  giant  represent- 
ative of  the  comparatively  puny  Euro- 
pean stag.  So  with  the  red  fox.  The  fox 
of  New  York  is  about  the  size  of  that 
of  France,  and  inferior  in  size  to  that  of 
Scotland;  the  latter  in  turn  is  inferior  in 
size  to  the  big  fox  of  the  upper  Missouri, 
while  the  largest  of  all  comes  from  British 
America.  There  is  no  basis  for  the  belief 
that  the  red  fox  was  imported  here  from 
Europe;  its  skin  was  a  common  article 
of  trade  with  the  Canadian  fur  traders 
from  the  earliest  times.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  European  lynx  is  much  bigger 
xi 


INTRODUCTION 

than  the  American.  The  weasels  afford 
cases  in  point,  showing  how  hard  it  is  to 
make  a  general  law  on  the  subject.  The 
American  badger  is  very  much  smaller 
than  the  European,  and  the  American 
otter  very  much  larger  than  the  European 
otter.  Our  pine  marten,  or  sable,  com- 
pared with  that  of  Europe,  shows  the 
very  qualities  of  which  you  speak;  that 
is,  its  skull  is  slenderer,  the  bones  are 
somewhat  lighter,  the  teeth  less  stout,  the 
form  showing  more  grace  and  less  strength. 
But  curiously  enough  this  is  reversed, 
with  even  greater  emphasis,  in  the  minks 
of  the  two  continents,  the  American  being 
much  the  largest  and  strongest,  with 
stouter  teeth,  bigger  bones,  and  a  stronger 
animal  in  every  way.  The  little  weasel  is 
on  the  whole  smaller  here,  while  the  big 
weasel,  or  stoat,  is,  in  some  of  its  varieties 
at  least,  largest  on  this  side;  and,  of  the 

true  weasels,  the  largest  of  all  is  the  so- 
xii 


INTRODUCTION 

called  fisher,  a  purely  American  beast,  a 
fierce  and  hardy  animal  which  habitually 
preys  upon  as  hard  fighting  a  creature  as 
the  raccoon,  and  which  could  eat  all  the 
Asiatic  and  European  varieties  of  weasels 
without  an  effort. 

"About  birds  I  should  be  far  less  com- 
petent to  advance  arguments,  and  es- 
pecially, my  dear  sir,  to  you;  but  it  seems 
to  me  that  two  of  the  most  self-asserting 
and  hardiest  of  our  families  of  birds  are 
the  tyrant  flycatchers,  of  which  the  king- 
bird is  chief,  and  the  blackbirds,  or 
grackles,  with  the  meadow  lark  at  their 
head,  both  characteristically  American. 

"Did  you  ever  look  over  the  medical 
statistics  of  the  half  million  men  drafted 
during  the  Civil  War  ?  They  include  men 
of  every  race  and  color,  and  from  every 
country  of  Europe,  and  from  every  State 
in  the  Union;  and  so  many  men  were 
measured  that  the  average  of  the  mea- 

xiii 


INTRODUCTION 

surements  is  probably  pretty,  fair.  From 
these  it  would  appear  that  the  physical 
type  in  the  Eastern  States  had  undoubt- 
edly degenerated.  The  man  from  New 
York  or  New  England,  unless  he  came 
from  the  lumbering  districts,  though  as 
tall  as  the  Englishman  or  Irishman,  was 
distinctly  lighter  built,  and  especially  was 
narrower  across  the  chest ;  but  the  finest 
men  physically  of  all  were  the  Kentuck- 
ians  and  Tennesseeans.  After  them  came 
the  Scandinavians,  then  the  Scotch,  then 
the  people  from  several  of  the  Western 
States,  such  as  Wisconsin  and  Minnesota, 
then  the  Irish,  then  the  Germans,  then 
the  English,  etc.  The  decay  of  vitality, 
especially  as  shown  in  the  decreasing 
fertility  of  the  New  England  and,  indeed, 
New  York  stock,  is  very  alarming;  but 
the  most  prolific  peoples  on  this  conti- 
nent, whether  of  native  or  foreign  origin, 
are  the  native  whites  of  the  southern 
xiv 


INTRODUCTION 

Alleghany  region  in  Kentucky  and  Ten- 
nessee, the  Virginians,  and  the  Carolin- 
ians, and  also  the  French  of  Canada. 

"It  will  be  difficult  to  frame  a  general 
law  of  fecundity  in  comparing  the  effects 
upon  human  life  of  long  residence  on  the 
two  continents  when  we  see  that  the 
Frenchman  in  Canada  is  healthy  and 
enormously  fertile,  while  the  old  French 
stock  is  at  the  stationary  point  in  France, 
the  direct  reverse  being  the  case  when 
the  English  of  Old  and  of  New  England 
are  compared,  and  the  decision  being 
again  reversed  if  we  compare  the  English 
with  the  mountain  whites  of  the  Southern 
States." 


CAMPING  WITH 
PRESIDENT  ROOSEVELT 


CAMPING  WITH 
PRESIDENT   ROOSEVELT 

AT  the  time  I  made  the  trip  to. Yellow- 
stone Park  with  President  Roosevelt  in 
the  spring  of  1903,  I  promised  some 
friends  to  write  up  my  impressions  of 
the  President  and  of  the  Park,  but  I  have 
been  slow  in  getting  around  to  it.  The 
President  himself,  having  the  absolute 
leisure  and  peace  of  the  White  House, 
wrote  his  account  of  the  trip  nearly  two 
years  ago!  But  with  the  stress  and  strain 
of  my  life  at  "Slabsides," —  adminis- 
tering the  affairs  of  so  many  of  the  wild 
creatures  of  the  woods  about  me,  —  I 
have  not  till  this  blessed  season  (fall  of 
1905)  found  the  time  to  put  on  record  an 
account  of  the  most  interesting  thing  I 
saw  in  that  wonderful  land,  which,  of 
course,  was  the  President  himself. 
3 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

When  I  accepted  his  invitation  I  was 
well  aware  that  during  the  journey  I 
should  be  in  a  storm  centre  most  of  the 
time,  which  is  not  always  a  pleasant 
prospect  to  a  man  of  my  habits  and  dis- 
position. The  President  himself  is  a  good 
deal  of  a  storm,  —  a  man  of  such  abound- 
ing energy  and  ceaseless  activity  that  he 
sets  everything  in  motion  around  him 
wherever  he  goes.  But  I  knew  he  would 
be  pretty  well  occupied  on  his  way  to  the 
Park  in  speaking  to  eager  throngs  and  in 
receiving  personal  and  political  homage 
in  the  towns  and  cities  we  were  to  pass 
through.  But  when  all  this  was  over,  and 
I  found  myself  with  him  in  the  wilder- 
ness of  the  Park,  with  only  the  superin- 
tendent and  a  few  attendants  to  help  take 
up  his  tremendous  personal  impact,  how 
was  it  likely  to  fare  with  a  non-strenuous 
person  like  myself?  I  asked.  I  had  visions 
of  snow  six  and  seven  feet  deep,  where 
4 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

traveling  could  be  done  only  upon  snow- 
shoes,  and  I  had  never  had  the  things  on 
my  feet  in  my  life.  If  the  infernal  fires 
beneath,  that  keep  the  pot  boiling  so 
furiously  in  the  Park,  should  melt  the 
snows,  I  could  see  the  party  tearing  along 
on  horseback  at  a  wolf-hunt  pace  over  a 
rough  country;  and  as  I  had  not  been 
on  a  horse's  back  since  the  President 
was  born,  how  would  it  be  likely  to  fare 
with  me  then  ? 

I  had  known  the  President  several 
years  before  he  became  famous,  and  we 
had  had  some  correspondence  on  subjects 
of  natural  history.  His  interest  in  such 
themes  is  always  very  fresh  and  keen, 
and  the  main  motive  of  his  visit  to  the 
Park  at  this  time  was  to  see  and  study  in 
its  semi-domesticated  condition  the  great 
game  which  he  had  so  often  hunted  dur- 
ing his  ranch  days;  and  he  was  kind 
enough  to  think  it  would  be  an  additional 
5 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

pleasure  to  see  it  with  a  nature-lover  like 
myself.  For  my  own  part,  I  knew  nothing 
about  big  game,  but  I  knew  there  was  no 
man  in  the  country  with  whom  I  should 
so  like  to  see  it  as  Roosevelt. 

Some  of  our  newspapers  reported  that 
the  President  intended  to  hunt  in  the 
Park.  A  woman  in  Vermont  wrote  me, 
to  protest  against  the  hunting,  and  hoped 
I  would  teach  the  President  to  love  the 
animals  as  much  as  I  did,  —  as  if  he  did 
not  love  them  much  more,  because  his 
love  is  founded  upon  knowledge,  and 
because  they  had  been  a  part  of  his  life. 
She  did  not  know  that  I  was  then  cherish- 
ing the  secret  hope  that  I  might  be  al- 
lowed to  shoot  a  cougar  or  bobcat;  but 
this  fun  did  not  come  to  me.  The  Presi- 
dent said,  "I  will  not  fire  a  gun  in  the 
Park;  then  I  shall  have  no  explanations 
to  make."  Yet  once  I  did  hear  him  say 
in  the  wilderness,  "I  feel  as  if  I  ought  to 
6 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

keep  the  camp  in  meat.  I  always  have." 
I  regretted  that  he  could  not  do  so  on  this 
occasion. 

I  have  never  been  disturbed  by  the 
President's  hunting  trips.  It  is  to  such 
men  as  he  that  the  big  game  legitimately 
belongs,  —  men  who  regard  it  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  naturalist  as  well  as 
from  that  of  the  sportsman,  who  are  in- 
terested in  its  preservation,  and  who  share 
with  the  world  the  delight  they  experience 
in  the  chase.  Such  a  hunter  as  Roosevelt 
is  as  far  removed  from  the  game-butcher 
as  day  is  from  night;  and  as  for  his  kill- 
ing of  the  "varmints,"  —  bears,  cougars, 
and  bobcats,  —  the  fewer  of  these  there 
are,  the  better  for  the  useful  and  beautiful 
game. 

The  cougars,  or  mountain  lions,  in  the 
Park  certainly  needed  killing.  The  super- 
intendent reported  that  he  had  seen  where 
they  had  slain  nineteen  elk,  and  we  saw 
7 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

where  they  had  killed  a  deer  and  dragged 
its  body  across  the  trail.  Of  course,  the 
President  would  not  now  on  his  hunting 
trips  shoot  an  elk  or  a  deer  except  to 
"keep  the  camp  in  meat,"  and  for  this 
purpose  it  is  as  legitimate  as  to  slay  a 
sheep  or  a  steer  for  the  table  at  home. 

We  left  Washington  on  April  i,  and 
strung  several  of  the  larger  Western  cities 
on  our  thread  of  travel,  —  Chicago,  Mil- 
waukee, Madison,  St.  Paul,  Minneapolis, 
—  as  well  as  many  lesser  towns,  in  each 
of  which  the  President  made  an  address, 
sometimes  brief,  on  a  few  occasions  of  an 
hour  or  more. 

He  gave  himself  very  freely  and  heartily 
to  the  people  wherever  he  went.  He  could 
easily  match  their  Western  cordiality 
and  good-fellowship.  Wherever  his  train 
stopped,  crowds  soon  gathered,  or  had 
already  gathered,  to  welcome  him.  His 

advent  made  a  holiday  in  each  town  he 
8 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

visited.  At  all  the  principal  stops  the 
usual  programme  was:  first,  his  reception 
by  the  committee  of  citizens  appointed  to 
receive  him,  —  they  usually  boarded  his 
private  car,  and  were  one  by  one  intro- 
duced to  him;  then  a  drive  through  the 
town  with  a  concourse  of  carriages;  then 
to  the  hall  or  open-air  platform,  where 
he  spoke  to  the  assembled  throng;  then 
to  lunch  or  dinner;  and  then  back  to  the 
train,  and  off  for  the  next  stop,  —  a  round 
of  hand-shaking,  carriage-driving,  speech- 
making  each  day.  He  usually  spoke 
from  eight  to  ten  times  every  twenty-four 
hours,  sometimes  for  only  a  few  minutes 
from  the  rear  platform  of  his  private  car, 
at  others  for  an  hour  or  more  in  some 
large  hall.  In  Chicago,  Milwaukee,  and 
St.  Paul,  elaborate  banquets  were  given 
him  and  his  party,  and  on  each  occasion 
he  delivered  a  carefully  prepared  speech 
upon  questions  that  involved  the  policy 
9 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

of  his  administration.  The  throng  that 
greeted  him  in  the  vast  Auditorium  in 
Chicago  —  that  rose  and  waved  and 
waved  again  —  was  one  of  the  grandest 
human  spectacles  I  ever  witnessed. 

In  Milwaukee  the  dense  cloud  of  to- 
bacco smoke  that  presently  filled  the 
large  hall  after  the  feasting  was  over  was 
enough  to  choke  any  speaker,  but  it  did 
not  seem  to  choke  the  President,  though 
he  does  not  use  tobacco  in  any  form  him- 
self; nor  was  there  anything  foggy  about 
his  utterances  on  that  occasion  upon 
legislative  control  of  the  trusts. 

In  St.  Paul  the  city  was  inundated 
with  humanity,  —  a  vast  human  tide 
that  left  the  middle  of  the  streets  bare  as 
our  line  of  carriages  moved  slowly  along, 
but  that  rose  up  in  solid  walls  of  town 
and  prairie  humanity  on  the  sidewalks 
and  city  dooryards.  How  hearty  and 
happy  the  myriad  faces  looked!  At  one 

10 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

point  I  spied  in  the  throng  on  the  curb- 
stone a  large  silk  banner  that  bore  my 
own  name  as  the  title  of  some  society.  I 
presently  saw  that  it  was  borne  by  half 
a  dozen  anxious  and  expectant-looking 
schoolgirls  with  braids  down  their  backs. 
As  my  carriage  drew  near  them,  they 
pressed  their  way  through  the  throng 
and  threw  a  large  bouquet  of  flowers  into 
my  lap.  I  think  it  would  be  hard  to  say 
who  blushed  the  deeper,  the  girls  or  my- 
self. It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  had 
flowers  showered  upon  me  in  public;  and 
then,  maybe,  I  felt  that  on  such  an  occa- 
sion I  was  only  a  minor  side  issue,  and 
public  recognition  was  not  called  for. 
But  the  incident  pleased  the  President. 
"I  saw  that  banner  and  those  flowers,"  he 
said  afterwards;  "and  I  was  delighted  to 
see  you  honored  that  way."  But  I  fear  I 
have  not  to  this  day  thanked  the  Monroe 
School  of  St.  Paul  for  that  pretty  attention, 
ii 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

The  time  of  the  passing  of  the  presi- 
dential train  seemed  well  known,  even 
on  the  Dakota  prairies.  At  one  point  I 
remember  a  little  brown  schoolhouse 
stood  not  far  off,  and  near  the  track  the 
school-ma'am,  with  her  flock,  drawn  up 
in  line.  We  were  at  luncheon,  but  the 
President  caught  a  glimpse  ahead  through 
the  window,  and  quickly  took  in  the 
situation.  With  napkin  in  hand,  he 
rushed  out  on  the  platform  and  waved  to 
them.  "Those  children,"  he  said,  as  he 
came  back,  "wanted  to  see  the  President 
of  the  United  States,  and  I  could  not  dis- 
appoint them.  They  may  never  have 
another  chance.  What  a  deep  impression 
such  things  make  when  we  are  young!" 

At  some  point  in  the  Dakotas  we  picked 
up  the  former  foreman  of  his  ranch  and 
another  cowboy  friend  of  the  old  days, 
and  they  rode  with  the  President  in  his 
private  car  for  several  hours.  He  was  as 

12 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

happy  with  them  as  a  schoolboy  ever  was 
in  meeting  old  chums.  He  beamed  with 
delight  all  over.  The  life  which  those 
men  represented,  and  of  which  he  had 
himself  once  formed  a  part,  meant  so 
much  to  him;  it  had  entered  into  the  very 
marrow  of  his  being,  and  I  could  see  the 
joy  of  it  all  shining  in  his  face  as  he  sat 
and  lived  parts  of  it  over  again  with  those 
men  that  day.  He  bubbled  with  laughter 
continually.  The  men,  I  thought,  seemed 
a  little  embarrassed  by  his  open-handed 
cordiality  and  good-fellowship.  He  him- 
self evidently  wanted  to  forget  the  present, 
and  to  live  only  in  the  memory  of  those 
wonderful  ranch  days,  —  that  free,  hardy, 
adventurous  life  upon  the  plains.  It  all 
came  back  to  him  with  a  rush  when  he 
found  himself  alone  with  these  heroes  of 
the  rope  and  the  stirrup.  How  much 
more  keen  his  appreciation  was,  and  how 
much  quicker  his  memory,  than  theirs! 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

He  was  constantly  recalling  to  their 
minds  incidents  which  they  had  forgotten, 
and  the  names  of  horses  and  dogs  which 
had  escaped  them.  His  subsequent  life, 
instead  of  making  dim  the  memory  of  his 
ranch  days,  seemed  to  have  made  it  more 
vivid  by  contrast. 

When  they  had  gone  I  said  to  him,  "I 
think  your  affection  for  those  men  very 
beautiful/' 

"How  could  I  help  it?"  he  said. 

"Still,  few  men  in  your  station  could 
or  would  go  back  and  renew  such  friend- 
ships." 

"Then  I  pity  them,"  he  replied. 

He  said  afterwards  that  his  ranch  life 
had  been  the  making  of  him.  It  had 
built  him  up  and  hardened  him  physi- 
cally, and  it  had  opened  his  eyes  to  the 
wealth  of  manly  character  among  the 
plainsmen  and  cattlemen. 

Had  he  not  gone  West,  he  said,  he 
14 


CAMPING  WITH    THE    PRESIDENT 

never  would  have  raised  the  Rough  Riders 
regiment;  and  had  he  not  raised  that 
regiment  and  gone  to  the  Cuban  War,  he 
would  not  have  been  made  governor  of 
New  York;  and  had  not  this  happened, 
the  politicians  would  not  unwittingly 
have  made  his  rise  to  the  Presidency  so 
inevitable.  There  is  no  doubt,  I  think, 
that  he  would  have  got  there  some  day; 
but  without  the  chain  of  events  above 
outlined,  his  rise  could  not  have  been  so 
rapid. 

Our  train  entered  the  Bad  Lands  of 
North  Dakota  in  the  early  evening  twi- 
light, and  the  President  stood  on  the  rear 
platform  of  his  car,  gazing  wistfully  upon 
the  scene.  "I  know  all  this  country  like  a 
book,"  he  said.  "I  have  ridden  over  it, 
and  hunted  over  it,  and  tramped  over  it, 
in  all  seasons  and  weather,  and  it  looks 
like  home  to  me.  My  old  ranch  is  not 
far  off.  We  shall  soon  reach  Medora, 
15 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

which  was  my  station."  It  was  plain  to 
see  that  that  strange,  forbidding-looking 
landscape,  hills  and  valleys  to  eastern 
eyes,  utterly  demoralized  and  gone  to  the 
bad,  —  flayed,  fantastic,  treeless,  a  riot 
of  naked  clay  slopes,  chimney-like  buttes, 
and  dry  coulees,  —  was  in  his  eyes  a  land 
of  almost  pathetic  interest.  There  were 
streaks  of  good  pasturage  here  and  there 
where  his  cattle  used  to  graze,  and  where 
the  deer  and  the  pronghorn  used  to 
linger. 

When  we  reached  Medora,  where  the 
train  was  scheduled  to  stop  an  hour,  it 
was  nearly  dark,  but  the  whole  town  and 
country  round  had  turned  out  to  welcome 
their  old  townsman.  After  much  hand- 
shaking, the  committee  conducted  us 
down  to  a  little  hall,  where  the  President 
stood  on  a  low  platform,  and  made  a 
short  address  to  the  standing  crowd  that 

filled  the  place.  Then  some  flashlight  pic- 
16 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

tures  were  taken  by  the  local  photogra- 
pher, after  which  the  President  stepped 
down,  and,  while  the  people  filed  past 
him,  shook  hands  with  every  man,  wo- 
man, and  child  of  them,  calling  many  of 
them  by  name,  and  greeting  them  all 
most  cordially.  I  recall  one  grizzled  old 
frontiersman  whose  hand  he  grasped, 
calling  him  by  name,  and  saying,  "How 
well  I  remember  you !  You  once  mended 
my  gunlock  for  me,  —  put  on  a  new 
hammer."  "Yes,"  said  the  delighted  old 
fellow;  "I'm  the  man,  Mr.  President." 
He  was  among  his  old  neighbors  once 
more,  and  the  pleasure  of  the  meeting 
was  very  obvious  on  both  sides.  I  heard 
one  of  the  women  tell  him  they  were  going 
to  have  a  dance  presently,  and  ask  him 
if  he  would  not  stay  and  open  it!  The 
President  laughingly  excused  himself,  and 
said  his  train  had  to  leave  on  schedule 
time,  and  his  time  was  nearly  up.  I 
17 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

thought  of  the  incident  in  his  "Ranch 
Life,"  in  which  he  says  he  once  opened  a 
cowboy  ball  with  the  wife  of  a  Minnesota 
man,  who  danced  opposite,  and  who  had 
recently  shot  a  bullying  Scotchman.  He 
says  the  scene  reminded  him  of  the  ball 
where  Bret  Harte's  heroine  "went  down 
the  middle  with  the  man  that  shot  Sandy 
Magee." 

Before  reaching  Medora  he  had  told 
me  many  anecdotes  of  "Hell- Roaring 
Bill  Jones,"  and  had  said  I  should  see 
him.  But  it  turned  out  that  Hell- Roaring 
Bill  had  begun  to  celebrate  the  coming  of 
the  President  too  early  in  the  day,  and 
when  we  reached  Medora  he  was  not  in  a 
presentable  condition.  I  forget  now  how 
he  had  earned  his  name,  but  no  doubt  he 
had  come  honestly  by  it;  it  was  a  part  of 
his  history,  as  was  that  of  "The  Pike," 
"Cold-Turkey  Bill,"  "Hash- Knife  Joe," 
and  other  classic  heroes  of  the  frontier. 
rl 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

It  is  curious  how  certain  things  go  to 
the  bad  in  the  Far  West,  or  a  certain  pro- 
portion of  them,  —  bad  lands,  bad  horses, 
and  bad  men.  And  it  is  a  degree  of  bad- 
ness that  the  East  has  no  conception  of, 

—  land  that  looks  as  raw  and  unnatural 
as  if  time  had  never  laid  its  shaping  and 
softening  hand  upon  it;  horses  that,  when 
mounted,  put  their  heads  to  the  ground 
and  their  heels  in  the  air,  and,  squealing 
defiantly,  resort  to  the  most  diabolically 
ingenious  tricks  to  shake  off  or  to  kill 
their  riders;  and  men  who  amuse  them- 
selves in  bar-rooms  by  shooting  about 
the  feet  of  a  "tenderfoot"  to  make  him 
dance,  or  who  ride  along  the  street  and 
shoot  at  every  one  in  sight.   Just  as  the 
old  plutonic  fires  come  to  the  surface  out 
there    in    the    Rockies,    and    hint    very 
strongly  of  the  infernal  regions,  so  a  kind 
of  satanic  element  in  men  and  animals 

—  an   underlying  devilishness  —  crops 

19 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

out,  and  we  have  the  border  ruffian  and 
the  bucking  broncho. 

The  President  told  of  an  Englishman 
on  a  hunting  trip  in  the  West,  who,  being 
an  expert  horseman  at  home,  scorned  the 
idea  that  he  could  not  ride  any  of  their 
"grass-fed  ponies."  So  they  gave  him  a 
bucking  broncho.  He  was  soon  lying  on 
the  ground,  much  stunned.  When  he 
could  speak,  he  said,  "I  should  not  have 
minded  him,  you  know,  but  'e  'ides  'is 
*ead." 

Atone  place  in  Dakota  the  train  stopped 
to  take  water  while  we  were  at  lunch.  A 
crowd  soon  gathered,  and  the  President 
went  out  to  greet  them.  We  could  hear 
his  voice,  and  the  cheers  and  laughter  of 
the  crowd.  And  then  we  heard  him  say, 
"Well,  good-by,  I  must  go  now."  Still 
he  did  not  come.  Then  we  heard  more 
talking  and  laughing,  and  another  "good- 
by,"  and  yet  he  did  not  come.  Then  I 

20 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

went  out  to  see  what  had  happened.  I 
found  the  President  down  on  the  ground 
shaking  hands  with  the  whole  lot  of  them. 
Some  one  had  reached  up  to  shake  his 
hand  as  he  was  about  withdrawing,  and 
this  had  been  followed  by  such  eagerness 
on  the  part  of  the  rest  of  the  people  to  do 
likewise,  that  the  President  had  instantly 
got  down  to  gratify  them.  Had  the  secret 
service  men  known  it,  they  would  have 
been  in  a  pickle.  We  probably  have  never 
had  a  President  who  responded  more 
freely  and  heartily  to  the  popular  liking 
for  him  than  Roosevelt.  The  crowd  al- 
ways seem  to  be  in  love  with  him  the 
moment  they  see  him  and  hear  his  voice. 
And  it  is  not  by  reason  of  any  arts  of  elo- 
quence, or  charm  of  address,  but  by  rea- 
son of  his  inborn  heartiness  and  sincerity, 
and  his  genuine  manliness.  The  people 
feel  his  quality  at  once.  In  Bermuda  last 
winter  I  met  a  Catholic  priest  who  had 

21 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

sat  on  the  platform  at  some  place  in  New 
England  very  near  the  President  while 
he  was  speaking,  and  who  said,  "The 
man  had  not  spoken  three  minutes  before 
I  loved  him,  and  had  any  one  tried  to 
molest  him,  I  could  have  torn  him  to 
pieces."  It  is  the  quality  in  the  man  that 
instantly  inspires  such  a  liking  as  this  in 
strangers  that  will,  I  am  sure,  safeguard 
him  in  all  public  places. 

I  once  heard  him  say  that  he  did  not 
like  to  be  addressed  as  "His  Excellency;" 
he  added  laughingly,  "They  might  just 
as  well  call  me  'His  Transparency/  for  all 
I  care."  It  is  this  transparency,  this  direct 
out-and-out,  unequivocal  character  of 
him  that  is  one  source  of  his  popularity. 
The  people  do  love  transparency,  —  all 
of  them  but  the  politicians. 

A  friend  of  his  one  day  took  him  to 
task  for  some  mistake  he  had  made  in  one 
of  his  appointments.  "My  dear  sir," 

22 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

replied  the  President,  "where  you  know 
of  one  mistake  I  have  made,  I  know  of 
ten."  How  such  candor  must  make  the 
politicians  shiver! 

I  have  said  that  I  stood  in  dread  of  the 
necessity  of  snowshoeing  in  the  Park, 
and,  in  lieu  of  that,  of  horseback  riding. 
Yet  when  we  reached  Gardiner,  the  en- 
trance to  the  Park,  on  that  bright,  crisp 
April  morning,  with  no  snow  in  sight  save 
that  on  the  mountain-tops,  and  found 
Major  Pitcher  and  Captain  Chittenden 
at  the  head  of  a  squad  of  soldiers,  with  a 
fine  saddle-horse  for  the  President,  and 
an  ambulance  drawn  by  two  span  of 
mules  for  me,  I  confess  that  I  experienced 
just  a  slight  shade  of  mortification.  I 
thought  they  might  have  given  me  the 
option  of  the  saddle  or  the  ambulance. 
Yet  I  entered  the  vehicle  as  if  it  was  just 
what  I  had  been  expecting. 

The  President  and  his  escort,  with  a 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

cloud  of  cowboys  hovering  in  the  rear, 
were  soon  off  at  a  lively  pace,  and  my 
ambulance  followed  close,  and  at  a  lively 
pace,  too;  so  lively  that  I  soon  found  my- 
self gripping  the  seat  with  both  hands. 
"Well,"  I  said  to  myself,  "they  are  giving 
me  a  regular  Western  send-off;"  and  I 
thought,  as  the  ambulance  swayed  from 
side  to  side,  that  it  would  suit  me  just  as 
well  if  my  driver  did  not  try  to  keep  up 
with  the  presidential  procession.  The 
driver  and  his  mules  were  shut  off  from 
me  by  a  curtain,  but,  looking  ahead  out 
of  the  sides  of  the  vehicle,  I  saw  two  good- 
sized  logs  lying  across  our  course.  Surely, 
I  thought  (and  barely  had  time  to  think), 
he  will  avoid  these.  But  he  did  not,  and 
as  we  passed  over  them  I  was  nearly 
thrown  through  the  top  of  the  ambulance. 
"This  is  a  lively  send-off,"  I  said,  rubbing 
my  bruises  with  one  hand,  while  I  clung 
to  the  seat  with  the  other.  Presently  I 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

saw  the  cowboys  scrambling  up  the  bank 
as  if  to  get  out  of  our  way;  then  the  Presi- 
dent on  his  fine  gray  stallion  scrambling 
up  the  bank  with  his  escort,  and  looking 
ominously  in  my  direction,  as  we  thun- 
dered by. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "this  is  indeed  a  novel 
ride;  for  once  in  my  life  I  have  side- 
tracked the  President  of  the  United 
States !  I  am  given  the  right  of  way  over 
all."  On  we  tore,  along  the  smooth,  hard 
road,  and  did  not  slacken  our  pace  till, 
at  the  end  of  a  mile  or  two,  we  began  to 
mount  the  hill  toward  Fort  Yellowstone. 
And  not  till  we  reached  the  fort  did  I 
learn  that  our  mules  had  run  away.  They 
had  been  excited  beyond  control  by  the 
presidential  cavalcade,  and  the  driver, 
finding  he  could  not  hold  them,  had 
aimed  only  to  keep  them  in  the  road, 
and  we  very  soon  had  the  road  all  to 
ourselves. 


CAMPING  WITH    THE   PRESIDENT 

Fort  Yellowstone  is  at  Mammoth  Hot 
Springs,  where  one  gets  his  first  view  of 
the  characteristic  scenery  of  the  Park,  — 
huge,  boiling  springs  with  their  columns 
of  vapor,  and  the  first  characteristic  odors 
which  suggest  the  traditional  infernal 
regions  quite  as  much  as  the  boiling  and 
steaming  water  does.  One  also  gets  a 
taste  of  a  much  more  rarefied  air  than  he 
has  been  used  to,  and  finds  himself  pant- 
ing for  breath  on  a  very  slight  exertion. 
The  Mammoth  Hot  Springs  have  built 
themselves  up  an  enormous  mound  that 
stands  there  above  the  village  on  the  side 
of  the  mountain,  terraced  and  scalloped 
and  fluted,  and  suggesting  some  vitreous 
formation,  or  rare  carving  of  enormous, 
many-colored  precious  stones.  It  looks 
quite  unearthly,  and,  though  the  devil's 
frying  pan,  and  ink  pot,  and  the  Stygian 
caves  are  not  far  off,  the  suggestion  is  of 

something  celestial   rather  than  of  the 
26 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

nether  regions,  —  a  vision  of  jasper  walls, 
and  of  amethyst  battlements. 

With  Captain  Chittenden  I  climbed  to 
the  top,  stepping  over  the  rills  and  creeks 
of  steaming  hot  water,  and  looked  at  the 
marvelously  clear,  cerulean,  but  boiling, 
pools  on  the  summit.  The  water  seemed 
as  unearthly  in  its  beauty  and  purity  as 
the  gigantic  sculpturing  that  held  it. 

The  Stygian  caves  are  still  farther  up 
the  mountain,  —  little  pockets  in  the 
rocks,  or  well-holes  in  the  ground  at  your 
feet,  filled  with  deadly  carbon  dioxide. 
We  saw  birds'  feathers  and  quills  in  all  of 
them.  The  birds  hop  into  them,  prob- 
ably in  quest  of  food  or  seeking  shelter, 
and  they  never  come  out.  We  saw  the 
body  of  a  martin  on  the  bank  of  one  hole. 
Into  one  we  sank  a  lighted  torch,  and  it 
was  extinguished  as  quickly  as  if  we  had 
dropped  it  into  water.  Each  cave  or  niche 
is  a  death  valley  on  a  small  scale.  Near  by 
27 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

we  came  upon  a  steaming  pool,  or  lakelet, 
of  an  acre  or  more  in  extent.  A  pair  of 
mallard  ducks  were  swimming  about  in 
one  end  of  it,  —  the  cool  end.  When  we 
approached,  they  swam  slowly  over  into 
the  warmer  water.  As  they  progressed, 
the  water  got  hotter  and  hotter,  and  the 
ducks'  discomfort  was  evident.  Presently 
they  stopped,  and  turned  towards  us, 
half  appealingly,  as  I  thought.  They 
could  go  no  farther;  would  we  please 
come  no  nearer  ?  As  I  took  another  step 
or  two,  up  they  rose  and  disappeared 
over  the  hill.  Had  they  gone  to  the  ex- 
treme end  of  the  pool,  we  could  have  had 
boiled  mallard  for  dinner. 
'  Another  novel  spectacle  was  at  night, 
or  near  sundown,  when  the  deer  came 
down  from  the  hills  into  the  streets  and 
ate  hay,  a  few  yards  from  the  officers' 
quarters,  as  unconcernedly  as  so  many 
domestic  sheep.  This  they  had  been 
28 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

doing  all  winter,  and  they  kept  it  up 
till  May,  at  times  a  score  or  more  of 
them  profiting  thus  on  the  government's 
bounty.  When  the  sundown  gun  was 
fired  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  away, 
they  gave  a  nervous  start,  but  kept  on 
with  their  feeding.  The  antelope  and  elk 
and  mountain  sheep  had  not  yet  grown 
bold  enough  to  accept  Uncle  Sam's  charity 
in  that  way. 

The  President  wanted  all  the  freedom 
and  solitude  possible  while  in  the  Park, 
so  all  newspaper  men  and  other  strangers 
were  excluded.  Even  the  secret  service 
men  and  his  physician  and  private  secre- 
taries were  left  at  Gardiner.  He  craved 
once  more  to  be  alone  with  nature;  he 
was  evidently  hungry  for  the  wild  and 
the  aboriginal,  —  a  hunger  that  seems  to 
come  upon  him  regularly  at  least  once  a 
year,  and  drives  him  forth  on  his  hunting 

trips  for  big  game  in  the  West. 
29 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

We  spent  two  weeks  in  the  Park,  and 
had  fair  weather,  bright,  crisp  days,  and 
clear,  freezing  nights.  The  first  week 
we  occupied  three  camps  that  had  been 
prepared,  or  partly  prepared,  for  us  in 
the  northeast  corner  of  the  Park,  in  the 
region  drained  by  the  Gardiner  River, 
where  there  was  but  little  snow,  and 
which  we  reached  on  horseback. 

The  second  week  we  visited  the  geyser 
region,  which  lies  a  thousand  feet  or  more 
higher,  and  where  the  snow  was  still  five 
or  six  feet  deep.  This  part  of  the  journey 
was  made  in  big  sleighs,  each  drawn  by 
two  span  of  horses. 

On  the  horseback  excursion,  which 
involved  only  about  fifty  miles  of  riding, 
we  had  a  mule  pack  train,  and  Sibley 
tents  and  stoves,  with  quite  a  retinue  of 
camp  laborers,  a  lieutenant  and  an  or- 
derly or  two,  and  a  guide,  Billy  Hofer. 

The  first  camp  was  in  a  wild,  rocky, 
30 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

and  picturesque  gorge  on  the  Yellow- 
stone, about  ten  miles  from  the  fort.  A 
slight  indisposition,  the  result  of  luxurious 
living,  with  no  wood  to  chop  or  to  saw, 
and  no  hills  to  climb,  as  at  home,  pre- 
vented me  from  joining  the  party  till  the 
third  day.  Then  Captain  Chittenden 
drove  me  eight  miles  in  a  buggy.  About 
two  miles  from  camp  we  came  to  a  picket 
of  two  or  three  soldiers,  where  my  big 
bay  was  in  waiting  for  me.  I  mounted 
him  confidently,  and,  guided  by  an  or- 
derly, took  the  narrow,  winding  trail 
toward  camp.  Except  for  an  hour's  riding 
the  day  before  with  Captain  Chittenden, 
I  had  not  been  on  a  horse's  back  for 
nearly  fifty  years,  and  I  had  not  spent  as 
much  as  a  day  in  the  saddle  during  my 
youth.  That  first  sense  of  a  live,  spirited, 
powerful  animal  beneath  you,  at  whose 
mercy  you  are,  —  you,  a  pedestrian  all 
your  days,  —  with  gullies  and  rocks  and 
31 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

logs  to  cross,  and  deep  chasms  opening 
close  beside  you,  is  not  a  little  disturbing. 
But  my  big  bay  did  his  part  well,  and  I 
did  not  lose  my  head  or  my  nerve,  as  we 
cautiously  made  our  way  along  the  nar- 
row path  on  the  side  of  the  steep  gorge, 
with  a  foaming  torrent  rushing  along  at 
its  foot,  nor  yet  when  we  forded  the  rocky 
and  rapid  Yellowstone.  A  misstep  or  a 
stumble  on  the  part  of  my  steed,  and 
probably  the  first  bubble  of  my  confidence 
would  have  been  shivered  at  once;  but 
this  did  not  happen,  and  in  due  time  we 
reached  the  group  of  tents  that  formed 
the  President's  camp. 

The  situation  was  delightful,  —  no 
snow,  scattered  pine  trees,  a  secluded 
valley,  rocky  heights,  and  the  clear, 
ample,  trouty  waters  of  the  Yellowstone. 
The  President  was  not  in  camp.  In  the 
morning  he  had  stated  his  wish  to  go 
alone  into  the  wilderness.  Major  Pitcher 
32 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

very  naturally  did  not  quite  like  the  idea, 
and  wished  to  send  an  orderly  with  him. 

"No,"  said  the  President.  "Put  me 
up  a  lunch,  and  let  me  go  alone.  I  will 
surely  come  back." 

And  back  he  surely  came.  It  was 
about  five  o'clock  when  he  came  briskly 
down  the  path  from  the  east  to  the  camp. 
It  came  out  that  he  had  tramped  about 
eighteen  miles  through  a  very  rough 
country.  The  day  before,  he  and  the 
major  had  located  a  band  of  several  hun- 
dred elk  on  a  broad,  treeless  hillside,  and 
his  purpose  was  to  find  those  elk,  and 
creep  up  on  them,  and  eat  his  lunch 
under  their  very  noses.  And  this  he  did, 
spending  an  hour  or  more  within  fifty 
yards  of  them.  He  came  back  looking  as 
fresh  as  when  he  started,  and  at  night, 
sitting  before  the  big  camp  fire,  related 
his  adventure,  and  talked  with  his  usual 
emphasis  and  copiousness  of  many  things. 
33 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

He  told  me  of  the  birds  he  had  seen  or 
heard;  among  them  he  had  heard  one 
that  was  new  to  him.  From  his  descrip- 
tion I  told  him  I  thought  it  was  Town- 
send's  solitaire,  a  bird  I  much  wanted  to 
see  and  hear.  I  had  heard  the  West  India 
solitaire,  —  one  of  the  most  impressive 
songsters  I  ever  heard,  —  and  I  wished 
to  compare  our  Western  form  with  it. 

The  next  morning  we  set  out  for  our 
second  camp,  ten  or  a  dozen  miles  away, 
and  in  reaching  it  passed  over  much  of 
the  ground  the  President  had  traversed 
the  day  before.  As  we  came  to  a  wild, 
rocky  place  above  a  deep  chasm  of  the 
river,  with  a  few  scattered  pine  trees,  the 
President  said,  "It  was  right  here  that  I 
heard  that  strange  bird  song."  We  paused 
a  moment.  "And  there  it  is  now !  "  he 
exclaimed. 

Sure  enough,  there  was  the  solitaire 
singing  from  the  top  of  a  small  cedar,  — 
34 


CAMPING  WITH  THE   PRESIDENT 

a  bright,  animated,  eloquent  song,  but 
without  the  richness  and  magic  of  the 
song  of  the  tropical  species.  We  hitched 
our  horses,  and  followed  the  bird  up  as  it 
flew  from  tree  to  tree.  The  President  was 
as  eager  to  see  and  hear  it  as  I  was.  It 
seemed  very  shy,  and  we  only  caught 
glimpses  of  it.  In  form  and  color  it  much 
resembles  its  West  India  cousin,  and 
suggests  our  catbird.  It  ceased  to  sing 
when  we  pursued  it.  It  is  a  bird  found 
only  in  the  wilder  and  higher  parts  of  the 
Rockies.  My  impression  was  that  its 
song  did  not  quite  merit  the  encomiums 
that  have  been  pronounced  upon  it. 

At  this  point,  I  saw  amid  the  rocks  my 
first  and  only  Rocky  Mountain  wood- 
chucks,  and,  soon  after  we  had  resumed 
our  journey,  our  first  blue  grouse,  —  a 
number  of  them  like  larger  partridges. 
Occasionally  we  would  come  upon  black- 
tailed  deer,  standing  or  lying  down  in  the 
35 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

bushes,  their  large  ears  at  attention  being 
the  first  thing  to  catch  the  eye.  They 
would  often  allow  us  to  pass  within  a  few 
rods  of  them  without  showing  alarm. 
Elk  horns  were  scattered  all  over  this 
part  of  the  Park,  and  we  passed  several 
old  carcasses  of  dead  elk  that  had  prob- 
ably died  a  natural  death. 

In  a  grassy  bottom  at  the  foot  of  a 
steep  hill,  while  the  President  and  I  were 
dismounted,  and  noting  the  pleasing 
picture  which  our  pack  train  of  fifteen  or 
twenty  mules  made  filing  along  the  side 
of  a  steep  grassy  slope,  —  a  picture  which 
he  has  preserved  in  his  late  volume,  "Out- 
Door  Pastimes  of  an  American  Hunter," 
—  our  attention  was  attracted  by  plain- 
tive, musical,  bird-like  chirps  that  rose 
from  the  grass  about  us.  I  was  almost 
certain  it  was  made  by  a  bird;  the  Presi- 
dent was  of  like  opinion;  and  we  kicked 
about  in  the  tufts  of  grass,  hoping  to  flush 
36 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

the  bird.  Now  here,  now  there,  arose 
this  sharp,  but  bird-like  note.  Finally, 
we  found  that  it  was  made  by  a  species  of 
gopher,  whose  holes  we  soon  discovered. 
What  its  specific  name  is  I  do  not 
know,  but  it  should  be  called  the  sing- 
ing gopher. 

Our  destination  this  day  was  a  camp 
on  Cottonwood  Creek,  near  "Hell-Roar- 
ing Creek/'  As  we  made  our  way  in  the 
afternoon  along  a  broad,  open,  grassy 
valley,  I  saw  a  horseman  come  galloping 
over  the  hill  to  our  right,  starting  up  a 
band  of  elk  as  he  came;  riding  across  the 
plain,  he  wheeled  his  horse,  and,  with  the 
military  salute,  joined  our  party.  He 
proved  to  be  a  government  scout,  called 
the  "Duke  of  Hell  Roaring,"  —  an  edu- 
cated officer  from  the  Austrian  army, 
who,  for  some  unknown  reason,  had  ex- 
iled himself  here  in  this  out-of-the-way 
part  of  the  world.  He  was  a  man  in  his 
37 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

prime,  of  fine,  military  look  and  bearing. 
After  conversing  a  few  moments  with 
the  President  and  Major  Pitcher,  he  rode 
rapidly  away. 

Our  second  camp,  which  we  reached  in 
mid-afternoon,  was  in  the  edge  of  the 
woods  on  the  banks  of  a  fine,  large  trout 
stream,  where  ice  and  snow  still  lingered 
in  patches.  „  I  tried  for  trout  in  the  head  of 
a  large,  partly  open  pool,  but  did  not  get 
a  rise;  too  much  ice  in  the  stream,  I  con- 
cluded. Very  soon  my  attention  was  at- 
tracted by  a  strange  note,  or  call,  in  the 
spruce  woods.  The  President  had  also 
noticed  it,  and,  with  me,  wondered  what 
made  it.  Was  it  bird  or  beast?  Billy 
Hofer  said  he  thought  it  was  an  owl,  but 
the  sound  in  no  way  suggested  an  owl, 
and  the  sun  was  shining  brightly.  It  was 
a  sound  such  as  a  boy  might  make  by- 
blowing  in  the  neck  of  an  empty  bottle. 
Presently  we  heard  it  beyond  us  on  the 
38 


THE   PRESIDENT  IN  THE  BEAR  COUNTRY 

From  stereograph,  copyright  1905,  by  Underwood  &  Underwood,  New  York 


CAMPING   WITH    THE    PRESIDENT 

other  side  of  the  creek,  which  was  pretty 
good  proof  that  the  creature  had  wings. 

"Let's  go  run  that  bird  down,"  said 
the  President  to  me. 

So  off  we  started  across  a  small,  open, 
snow-streaked  plain,  toward  the  woods 
beyond  it.  We  soon  decided  that  the  bird 
was  on  the  top  of  one  of  a  group  of  tall 
spruces.  After  much  skipping  about  over 
logs  and  rocks,  and  much  craning  of  our 
necks,  we  made  him  out  on  the  peak  of 
a  spruce.  I  imitated  his  call,  when  he 
turned  his  head  down  toward  us,  but  we 
could  not  make  out  what  he  was. 

"Why  did  we  not  think  to  bring  the 
glasses?"  said  the  President. 

"I  will  run  and  get  them/'  I  replied. 

"No,"  said  he,  "you  stay  here  and  keep 
that  bird  treed,  and  I  will  fetch  them." 

So  off  he  went  like  a  boy,  and  was  very 
soon  back  with  the  glasses.  We  quickly 
made  out  that  it  was  indeed  an  owl, — 
39 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

the  pigmy  owl,  as  it  turned  out,  —  not 
much  larger  than  a  bluebird.  I  think  the 
President  was  as  pleased  as  if  we  had 
bagged  some  big  game.  He  had  never 
seen  the  bird  before. 

Throughout  the  trip  I  found  his  inter- 
est in  bird  life  very  keen,  and  his  eye  and 
ear  remarkably  quick.  He  usually  saw 
the  bird  or  heard  its  note  as  quickly  as  I 
did,  —  and  I  had  nothing  else  to  think 
about,  and  had  been  teaching  my  eye  and 
ear  the  trick  of  it  for  over  fifty  years.  Of 
course,  his  training  as  a  big-game  hunter 
stood  him  in  good  stead,  but  back  of  that 
were  his  naturalist's  instincts,  and  his 
genuine  love  of  all  forms  of  wild  life. 

I  have  been  told  that  his  ambition  up  to 
the  time  he  went  to  Harvard  had  been  to 
be  a  naturalist,  but  that  there  they  seem 
to  have  convinced  him  that  all  the  out-of- 
door  worlds  of  natural  history  had  been 
conquered,  and  that  the  only  worlds  re- 
40 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

maining  were  in  the  laboratory,  and  to  be 
won  with  the  microscope  and  the  scalpel. 
But  Roosevelt  was  a  man  made  for  action 
in  a  wide  field,  and  laboratory  conquests 
could  not  satisfy  him.  His  instincts  as  a 
naturalist,  however,  lie  back  of  all  his 
hunting  expeditions,  and,  in  a  large  mea- 
sure, I  think,  prompt  them.  Certain  it  is 
that  his  hunting  records  contain  more  live 
natural  history  than  any  similar  records 
known  to  me,  unless  it  be  those  of  Charles 
St.  John,  the  Scotch  naturalist-sportsman. 
The  Canada  jays,  or  camp-robbers,  as 
they  are  often  called,  soon  found  out  our 
camp  that  afternoon,  and  no  sooner  had 
the  cook  begun  to  throw  out  peelings  and 
scraps  and  crusts  than  the  jays  began  to 
carry  them  off,  not  to  eat,  as  I  observed, 
but  to  hide  them  in  the  thicker  branches 
of  the  spruce  trees.  How  tame  they  were, 
coming  within  three  or  four  yards  of  one! 
Why  this  species  of  jay  should  everywhere 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

be  so  familiar,  and  all  other  kinds  so  wild, 
is  a  puzzle. 

In  the  morning,  as  we  rode  down  the 
valley  toward  our  next  camping-place,  at 
Tower  Falls,  a  band  of  elk  containing  a 
hundred  or  more  started  along  the  side  of 
the  hill  a  few  hundred  yards  away.  I  was 
some  distance  behind  the  rest  of  the  party, 
as  usual,  when  I  saw  the  President  wheel 
his  horse  off  to  the  left,  and,  beckoning  to 
me  to  follow,  start  at  a  tearing  pace  on  the 
trail  of  the  fleeing  elk.  He  afterwards  told 
me  that  he  wanted  me  to  get  a  good  view 
of  those  elk  at  close  range,  and  he  was 
afraid  that  if  he  sent  the  major  or  Hofer 
to  lead  me,  I  would  not  get  it.  I  hurried 
along  as  fast  as  I  could,  which  was  not 
fast;  the  way  was  rough,  —  logs,  rocks, 
spring  runs,  and  a  tenderfoot  rider. 

Now  and  then  the  President,  looking 
back  and  seeing  what  slow  progress  I  was 
making,  would  beckon  to  me  impatiently, 
42 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

and  I  could  fancy  him  saying,  "If  I  had 
a  rope  around  him,  he  would  come  faster 
than  that!"  Once  or  twice  I  lost  sight  of 
both  him  and  the  elk;  the  altitude  was 
great,  and  the  horse  was  laboring  like  a 
steam  engine  on  an  upgrade.  Still  I  urged 
him  on.  Presently,  as  I  broke  over  a  hill, 
I  saw  the  President  pressing  the  elk  up 
the  opposite  slope.  At  the  brow  of  the 
hill  he  stopped,  and  I  soon  joined  him. 
There  on  the  top,  not  fifty  yards  away, 
stood  the  elk  in  a  mass,  their  heads  to- 
ward us  and  their  tongues  hanging  out. 
They  could  run  no  farther.  The  President 
laughed  like  a  boy.  The  spectacle  meant 
much  more  to  him  than  it  did  to  me.  I  had 
never  seen  a  wild  elk  till  on  this  trip,  but 
they  had  been  among  the  notable  game 
that  he  had  hunted.  He  had  traveled 
hundreds  of  miles,  and  undergone  great 
hardships,  to  get  within  rifle  range  of 
these  creatures.  Now  here  stood  scores 
43 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

of  them  with  lolling  tongues,  begging  for 
mercy. 

After  gazing  at  them  to  our  hearts'  con- 
tent, we  turned  away  to  look  up  our  com- 
panions, who  were  nowhere  within  sight. 
We  finally  spied  them  a  mile  or  more  a  way, 
and,  joining  them,  all  made  our  way  to 
an  elevated  plateau  that  commanded  an 
open  landscape  three  or  four  miles  across. 
It  was  high  noon,  and  the  sun  shone  clear 
and  warm.  From  this  lookout  we  saw 
herds  upon  herds  of  elk  scattered  over 
the  slopes  and  gentle  valleys  in  front  of 
us.  Some  were  grazing,  some  were  stand- 
ing or  lying  upon  the  ground,  or  upon  the 
patches  of  snow.  Through  our  glasses  we 
counted  the  separate  bands,  and  then  the 
numbers  of  some  of  the  bands  or  groups, 
and  estimated  that  three  thousand  elk 
were  in  full  view  in  the  landscape  around 
us.  It  was  a  notable  spectacle.  Afterward, 
in  Montana,  I  attended  a  council  of  In- 
44 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

dian  chiefs  at  one  of  the  Indian  agencies, 
and  told  them,  through  their  interpreter, 
that  I  had  been  with  the  Great  Chief  in 
the  Park,  and  of  the  game  we  had  seen. 
When  I  told  them  of  these  three  thou- 
sand elk  all  in  view  at  once,  they  grunted 
loudly,  whether  with  satisfaction  or  with 
incredulity,  I  could  not  tell.  , 

In  the  midst  of  this  great  game  amphi- 
theatre we  dismounted  and  enjoyed  the 
prospect.  And  the  President  did  an  un- 
usual thing,  he  loafed  for  nearly  an  hour, 
—  stretched  himself  out  in  the  sunshine 
upon  a  flat  rock,  as  did  the  rest  of  us,  and, 
I  hope,  got  a  few  winks  of  sleep.  I  am 
sure  I  did.  Little,  slender,  striped  chip- 
munks, about  half  the  size  of  ours,  were 
scurrying  about;  but  I  recall  no  other  wild 
things  save  the  elk. 

From  here  we  rode  down  the  valley  to 
our  third  camp,  at  Tower  Falls,  stopping 
on  the  way  to  eat  our  luncheon  on  a 
45 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

washed  boulder  beside  a  creek.  On  this 
ride  I  saw  my  first  and  only  badger;  he 
stuck  his  striped  head  out  of  his  hole  in 
the  ground  only  a  few  yards  away  from 
us  as  we  passed. 

Our  camp  at  Tower  Falls  was  amid 
the  spruces  above  a  canon  of  the  Yellow- 
stone, five  or  six  hundred  feet  deep.  It 
was  a  beautiful  and  impressive  situation, 
—  shelter,  snugness,  even  cosiness,  look- 
ing over  the  brink  of  the  awful  and 
the  terrifying.  With  a  run  and  a  jump  I 
think  one  might  have  landed  in  the  river 
at  the  bottom  of  the  great  abyss,  and  in 
doing  so  might  have  scaled  one  of  those 
natural  obelisks  or  needles  of  rock  that 
stand  up  out  of  the  depths  two  or  three 
hundred  feet  high.  Nature  shows  you 
what  an  enormous  furrow  her  plough  can 
open  through  the  strata  when  moving 
horizontally,  at  the  same  time  that  she 

shows   you   what  delicate   and  graceful 

46 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

columns  her  slower  and  gentler  aerial 
forces  can  carve  out  of  the  piled  strata. 
At  the  Falls  there  were  two  or  three  of 
these  columns,  like  the  picket-pins  of  the 
elder  gods. 

Across  the  canon  in  front  of  our  camp, 
upon  a  grassy  plateau  which  was  faced 
by  a  wall  of  trap  rock,  apparently  thirty 
or  forty  feet  high,  a  band  of  mountain 
sheep  soon  attracted  our  attention.  They 
were  within  long  rifle  range,  but  were  not 
at  all  disturbed  by  our  presence,  nor  had 
they  been  disturbed  by  the  road-builders 
who,  under  Captain  Chittenden,  were 
constructing  a  government  road  along 
the  brink  of  the  canon.  We  speculated 
as  to  whether  or  not  the  sheep  could  get 
down  the  almost  perpendicular  face  of 
the  chasm  to  the  river  to  drink.  It  seemed 
to  me  impossible.  Would  they  try  it  while 
we  were  there  to  see  ?  We  all  hoped  so : 
and  sure  enough,  late  in  the  afternoon 
47 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

the  word  came  to  our  tents  that  the  sheep 
were  coming  down.  The  President,  with 
coat  off  and  a  towel  around  his  neck,  was 
shaving.  One  side  of  his  face  was  half 
shaved,  and  the  other  side  lathered.  Hofer 
and  I  started  for  a  point  on  the  brink  of  the 
canon  where  we  could  have  a  better  view. 

"By  Jove/'  said  the  President,  "I 
must  see  that.  The  shaving  can  wait,  and 
the  sheep  won't." 

So  on  he  came,  accoutred  as  he  was,  — 
coatless,  hatless,  but  not  latherless,  nor 
towelless.  Like  the  rest  of  us,  his  only 
thought  was  to  see  those  sheep  do  their 
"stunt."  With  glasses  in  hand,  we  watched 
them  descend  those  perilous  heights,  leap- 
ing from  point  to  point,  finding  a  foothold 
where  none  appeared  to  our  eyes,  loosen- 
ing fragments  of  the  crumbling  rocks  as 
they  came,  now  poised  upon  some  narrow 
shelf  and  preparing  for  the  next  leap,  zig- 
zagging or  plunging  straight  down  till  the 
48 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

bottom  was  reached,  and  not  one  accident 
or  misstep  amid  all  that  insecure  footing. 
I  think  the  President  was  the  most  pleased 
of  us  all;  he  laughed  with  the  delight  of  it, 
and  quite  forgot  his  need  of  a  hat  and  coat 
till  I  sent  for  them. 

In  the  night  we  heard  the  sheep  going 
back;  we  could  tell  by  the  noise  of  the 
falling  stones.  In  the  morning  I  confi- 
dently expected  to  see  some  of  them  lying 
dead  at  the  foot  of  the  cliffs,  but  there 
they  all  were  at  the  top  once  more,  ap- 
parently safe  and  sound.  They  do,  how- 
ever, occasionally  meet  with  accidents  in 
their  perilous  climbing,  and  their  dead 
bodies  have  been  found  at  the  foot  of  the 
rocks.  Doubtless  some  point  of  rock  to 
which  they  had  trusted  gave  way,  and 
crushed  them  in  the  descent,  or  fell  upon 
those  in  the  lead. 

The  next  day,  while  the  rest  of  us  went 
fishing  for  trout  in  the  Yellowstone,  three 
49 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

or  four  miles  above  the  camp,  over  the 
roughest  trail  that  we  had  yet  traversed 
on  horseback,  the  President,  who  never 
fishes  unless  put  to  it  for  meat,  went  off 
alone  again  with  his  lunch  in  his  pocket, 
to  stalk  those  sheep  as  he  had  stalked  the 
elk,  and  to  feel  the  old  sportsman's  thrill 
without  the  use  of  firearms.  To  do  this 
involved  a  tramp  of  eight  or  ten  miles 
down  the  river  to  a  bridge  and  up  the 
opposite  bank.  This  he  did,  and  ate  his 
lunch  near  the  sheep,  and  was  back  in 
camp  before  we  were. 

We  took  some  large  cut-throat  trout, 
as  they  are  called,  from  the  yellow  mark 
across  their  throats,  and  I  saw  at  short 
range  a  black-tailed  deer  bounding  along 
in  that  curious,  stiff-legged,  mechanical, 
yet  springy  manner,  apparently  all  four 
legs  in  the  air  at  once,  and  all  four  feet 
reaching  the  ground  at  once,  affording  a 
very  singular  spectacle. 
-  50 


CAMPING  WITH  THE   PRESIDENT 

We  spent  two  nights  in  our  Tower  Falls 
camp,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  third 
day  set  out  on  our  return  to  Fort  Yellow- 
stone, pausing  at  Yancey's  on  our  way, 
and  exchanging  greetings  with  the  old 
frontiersman,  who  died  a  few  weeks  later. 

While  in  camp  we  always  had  a  big  fire 
at  night  in  the  open  near  the  tents,  and 
around  this  we  sat  upon  logs  or  camp- 
stools,  and  listened  to  the  President's  talk. 
What  a  stream  of  it  he  poured  forth!  and 
what  a  varied  and  picturesque  stream! 
—  anecdote,  history,  science,  politics,  ad- 
venture, literature;  bits  of  his  experience 
as  a  ranchman,  hunter,  Rough  Rider, 
legislator,  civil  service  commissioner,  po- 
lice commissioner,  governor,  president, 
— the  frankest  confessions,  the  most  tell- 
ing criticisms,  happy  characterizations 
of  prominent  political  leaders,  or  foreign 
rulers,  or  members  of  his  own  Cabinet; 
always  surprising  by  his  candor,  aston- 
51 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

ishing  by  his  memory,  and  diverting  by 
his  humor.  His  reading  has  been  very 
wide,  and  he  has  that  rare  type  of  mem- 
ory which  retains  details  as  well  as  mass 
and  generalities.  One  night  something 
started  him  off  on  ancient  history,  and 
one  would  have  thought  he  was  just  fresh 
from  his  college  course  in  history,  the  dates 
and  names  and  events  came  so  readily. 
Another  time  he  discussed  palaeontology, 
and  rapidly  gave  the  outlines  of  the  science, 
and  the  main  facts,  as  if  he  had  been  read- 
ing up  on  the  subject  that  very  day.  He 
sees  things  as  wholes,  and  hence  the  re- 
lation of  the  parts  comes  easy  to  him. 

At  dinner,  at  the  White  House,  the 
night  before  we  started  on  the  expedition, 
I  heard  him  talking  with  a  guest,  —  an 
officer  of  the  British  army,  who  was  just 
back  from  India.  And  the  extent  and  va- 
riety of  his  information  about  India  and 
Indian  history  and  the  relations  of  the 
5* 


CAMPING   WITH  THE   PRESIDENT 

British  government  to  it  were  extraor- 
dinary. It  put  the  British  major  on  his 
mettle  to  keep  pace  with  him. 

One  night  in  camp  he  told  us  the  story 
of  one  of  his  Rough  Riders  who  had  just 
written  him  from  some  place  in  Arizona. 
The  Rough  Riders,  wherever  they  are 
now,  look  to  him  in  time  of  trouble.  This 
one  had  come  to  grief  in  Arizona.  He  was 
in  jail.  So  he  wrote  the  President,  and 
his  letter  ran  something  like  this :  — 

"DEAR  COLONEL,  —  I  am  in  trouble. 
I  shot  a  lady  in  the  eye,  but  I  did  not  in- 
tend to  hit  the  lady;  I  was  shooting  at  my 
wife." 

And  the  presidential  laughter  rang  out 
over  the  tree- tops.  To  another  Rough 
Rider,  who  was  in  jail,  accused  of  horse 
stealing,  he  had  loaned  two  hundred 
dollars  to  pay  counsel  on  his  trial,  and, 
to  his  surprise,  in  due  time  the  money 
53 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

came  back.  The  ex-Rough  wrote  that  his 
trial  never  came  off.  "  We  elected  our  dis- 
trict attorney;99  and  the  laughter  again 
sounded,  and  drowned  the  noise  of  the 
brook  near  by. 

On  another  occasion  we  asked  the  Pre- 
sident if  he  was  ever  molested  by  any  of 
the  "bad  men"  of  the  frontier,  with  whom 
he  had  often  come  in  contact.  "Only 
once,"  he  said.  The  cowboys  had  always 
treated  him  with  the  utmost  courtesy, 
both  on  the  round-up  and  in  camp;  "and 
the  few  real  desperadoes  I  have  seen  were 
also  perfectly  polite."  Once  only  was  he 
maliciously  shot  at,  and  then  not  by  a 
cowboy  nor  a  bona  fide  "bad  man,"  but 
by  a  "broad-hatted  ruffian  of  a  cheap  and 
common-place  type."  He  had  been  com- 
pelled to  pass  the  night  at  a  little  frontier 
hotel  where  the  bar-room  occupied  the 
whole  lower  floor,  and  was,  in  consequence, 
the  only  place  where  the  guests  of  the 
54 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

hotel,  whether  drunk  or  sober,  could  sit. 
As  he  entered  the  room,  he  saw  that  every 
man  there  was  being  terrorized  by  a  half- 
drunken  ruffian  who  stood  in  the  middle 
of  the  floor  with  a  revolver  in  each  hand, 
compelling  different  ones  to  treat. 

"I  went  and  sat  down  behind  the  stove," 
said  the  President,  "as  far  from  him  as  I 
could  get;  and  hoped  to  escape  his  notice. 
The  fact  that  I  wore  glasses,  together 
with  my  evident  desire  to  avoid  a  fight, 
apparently  gave  him  the  impression  that 
I  could  be  imposed  upon  with  impunity. 
He  very  soon  approached  me,  flourishing 
his  two  guns,  and  ordered  me  to  treat.  I 
made  no  reply  for  some  moments,  when 
the  fellow  became  so  threatening  that  I 
saw  something  had  to  be  done.  The 
crowd,  mostly  sheep-herders  and  small 
grangers,  sat  or  stood  back  against  the 
wall,  afraid  to  move.  I  was  unarmed, 
and  thought  rapidly.  Saying,  'Well,  if  I 
55 


CAMPING   WITH   THE    PRESIDENT 

must,  I  must/ 1  got  up  as  if  to  walk  around 
him  to  the  bar,  then,  as  I  got  opposjte  him, 
I  wheeled  and  fetched  him  as  heavy  a 
blow  on  the  chin-point  as  I  could  strike. 
He  went  down  like  a  steer  before  the  axe, 
firing  both  guns  into  the  ceiling  as  he  went. 
I  jumped  on  him,  and,  with  my  knees  on 
his  chest,  disarmed  him  in  a  hurry.  The 
crowd  was  then  ready  enough  to  help  me, 
and  we  hog-tied  him  and  put  him  in  an 
outhouse."  The  President  alludes  to  this 
incident  in  his  "Ranch  Life," but  does  not 
give  the  details.  It  brings  out  his  mettle 
very  distinctly. 

He  told  us  in  an  amused  way  of  the 
attempts  of  his  political  opponents  at  Al- 
bany, during  his  early  career  as  a  member 
of  the  Assembly,  to  besmirch  his  char- 
acter. His  outspoken  criticisms  and  de- 
nunciations had  become  intolerable  to 
them,  so  they  laid  a  trap  for  him,  but  he 
was  not  caught.  His  innate  rectitude  and 
56 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

instinct  for  the  right  course  saved  him, 
as  it  has  saved  him  many  times  since.  I 
do  not  think  that  in  any  emergency  he  has 
to  debate  with  himself  long  as  to  the  right 
course  to  be  pursued;  he  divines  it  by  a 
kind  of  infallible  instinct.  His  motives 
are  so  simple  and  direct  that  he  finds  a 
straight  and  easy  course  where  another 
man,  whose  eye  is  less  single,  would  floun- 
der and  hesitate. 

One  night  he  entertained  us  with  remi- 
niscences of  the  Cuban  War,  of  his  efforts 
to  get  his  men  to  the  firing  line  when  the 
fighting  began,  of  his  greenness  and  gen- 
eral ignorance  of  the  whole  business  of 
war,  which  in  his  telling  was  very  amus- 
ing. He  has  probably  put  it  all  in  his  book 
about  the  war,  a  work  I  have  not  yet  read. 
He  described  the  look  of  the  slope  of  Kettle 
Hill  when  they  were  about  to  charge  up  it, 
how  the  grass  was  combed  and  rippled  by 
the  storm  of  rifle  bullets  that  swept  down 
57 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

it.  He  said,  "I  was  conscious  of  being 
pale  when  I  looked  at  it  and  knew  that  in 
a  few  moments  we  were  going  to  charge 
there."  The  men  of  his  regiment  were  all 
lying  flat  upon  the  ground,  and  it  became 
his  duty  to  walk  along  their  front  and  en- 
courage them  and  order  them  up  on  their 
feet.  "Get  up,  men,  get  up!"  One  big 
fellow  did  not  rise.  Roosevelt  stooped 
down  and  took  hold  of  him  and  ordered 
him  up.  Just  at  that  moment  a  bullet 
struck  the  man  and  went  the  entire  length 
of  him.  He  never  rose. 

On  this  or  on  another  occasion  when 
a  charge  was  ordered,  he  found  himself  a 
hundred  yards  or  more  in  advance  of  his 
regiment,  with  only  the  color  bearer  and 
one  corporal  with  him.  He  said  they 
planted  the  flag  there,  while  he  rushed 
back  to  fetch  the  men.  He  was  evidently 
pretty  hot.  "Can  it  be  that  you  flinched 
when  I  led  the  way!"  and  then  they  came 
58 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

with  a  rush.  On  the  summit  of  Kettle 
Hill  he  was  again  in  advance  of  his  men, 
and  as  he  came  up,  three  Spaniards  rose 
out  of  the  trenches  and  deliberately  fired 
at  him  at  a  distance  of  only  a  few  paces, 
and  then  turned  and  fled.  But  a  bullet 
from  his  revolver  stopped  one  of  them. 
He  seems  to  have  been  as  much  exposed  to 
bullets  in  this  engagement  as  Washington 
was  at  Braddock's  defeat,  and  to  have 
escaped  in  the  same  marvelous  manner. 

The  President  unites  in  himself  powers 
and  qualities  that  rarely  go  together. 
Thus,  he  has  both  physical  and  moral 
courage  in  a  degree  rare  in  history.  He 
can  stand  calm  and  unflinching  in  the 
path  of  a  charging  grizzly,  and  he  can 
confront  with  equal  coolness  and  deter- 
mination the  predaceous  corporations 
and  money  powers  of  the  country. 

He  unites  the  qualities  of  the  man  of 
action  with  those  of  the  scholar  and  writer, 
59 


CAMPING   WITH   THE    PRESIDENT 

—  another  very  rare  combination.  He 
unites  the  instincts  and  accomplishments 
of  the  best  breeding  and  culture  with  the 
broadest  democratic  sympathies  and  af- 
filiations. He  is  as  happy  with  a  frontiers- 
man like  Seth  Bullock  as  with  a  fellow 
Harvard  man,  and  Seth  Bullock  is  happy, 
too. 

He  unites  great  austerity  with  great 
good  nature.  He  unites  great  sensibility 
with  great  force  and  will  power.  He  loves 
solitude,  and  he  loves  to  be  in  the  thick 
of  the  fight.  His  love  of  nature  is  equaled 
only  by  his  love  of  the  ways  and  marts  of 
men. 

He  is  doubtless  the  most  vital  man  on 
the  continent,  if  not  on  the  planet,  to-day. 
He  is  many-sided,  and  every  side  throbs 
with  his  tremendous  life  and  energy;  the 
pressure  is  equal  all  around.  His  inter- 
ests are  as  keen  in  natural  history  as  in 
economics,  in  literature  as  in  statecraft, 
60 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

in  the  young  poet  as  in  the  old  soldier, 
in  preserving  peace  as  in  preparing  for 
war.  And  he  can  turn  all  his  great  power 
into  the  new  channel  on  the  instant.  His 
interest  in  the  whole  of  life,  and  in  the 
whole  life  of  the  nation,  never  flags  for  a 
moment.  His  activity  is  tireless.  All  .the 
relaxation  he  needs  or  craves  is  a  change 
of  work.  He  is  like  the  farmer's  fields, 
that  only  need  a  rotation  of  crops.  I 
once  heard  him  say  that  all  he  cared 
about  being  President  was  just  "the  big 
work." 

During  this  tour  through  the  West, 
lasting  over  two  months,  he  made  nearly 
three  hundred  speeches;  and  yet  on  his 
return  Mrs.  Roosevelt  told  me  he  looked 
as  fresh  and  unworn  as  when  he  left  home. 

We  went  up  into  the  big  geyser  region 
with  the  big  sleighs,  each  drawn  by  four 
horses.  A  big  snow-bank  had  to  be  shov- 
eled through  for  us  before  we  got  to  the 
61 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

Golden  Gate,  two  miles  above  Mammoth 
Hot  Springs.  Beyond  that  we  were  at  an 
altitude  of  about  eight  thousand  feet,  on 
a  fairly  level  course  that  led  now  through 
woods,  and  now  through  open  country, 
with  the  snow  of  a  uniform  depth  of  four 
or  five  feet,  except  as  we  neared  the  "  for- 
mations," where  the  subterranean  warmth 
kept  the  ground  bare.  The  roads  had 
been  broken  and  the  snow  packed  for  us 
by  teams  from  the  fort,  otherwise  the 
journey  would  have  been  impossible. 

The  President  always  rode  beside  the 
driver.  From  his  youth,  he  said,  this  seat 
had  always  been  the  most  desirable  one  to 
him.  When  the  sleigh  would  strike  the 
bare  ground,  and  begin  to  drag  heavily, 
he  would  bound  out  nimbly  and  take 
to  his  heels,  and  then  all  three  of  us  — 
Major  Pitcher,  Mr.  Childs,  and  myself — 
would  follow  suit,  sometimes  reluctantly 

on  my  part.   Walking  at  that  altitude  is 
62 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

no  fun,  especially  if  you  try  to  keep  pace 
with  such  a  walker  as  the  President  is. 
But  he  could  not  sit  at  his  ease  and  let 
those  horses  drag  him  in  a  sleigh  over 
bare  ground.  When  snow  was  reached, 
we  would  again  quickly  resume  our  seats. 

As  one  nears  the  geyser  region,  he  gets 
the  impression  from  the  columns  of  steam 
going  up  here  and  there  in  the  distance — 
now  from  behind  a  piece  of  woods,  now 
from  out  a  hidden  valley  — that  he  is  ap- 
proaching a  manufacturing  centre,  or  a 
railroad  terminus.  And  when  he  begins 
to  hear  the  hoarse  snoring  of  "  Roaring 
Mountain/'  the  illusion  is  still  more  com- 
plete. At  Nooris's  there  is  a  big  vent 
where  the  steam  comes  tearing  out  of  a 
recent  hole  in  the  ground  with  terrific 
force.  Huge  mounds  of  ice  had  formed 
from  the  congealed  tyapor  all  around  it, 
some  of  them  very  striking. 

The  novelty  of  the  geyser  region  soon 
63 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

wears  off.  Steam  and  hot  water  are  steam 
and  hot  water  the  world  over,  and  the 
exhibition  of  them  here  did  not  differ, 
except  in  volume,  from  what  one  sees  by 
his  own  fireside.  The  "Growler"  is  only 
a  boiling  tea-kettle  on  a  large  scale,  and 
"Old  Faithful"  is  as  if  the  lid  were  to  fly 
off,  and  the  whole  contents  of  the  kettle 
should  be  thrown  high  into  the  air.  To 
be  sure,  boiling  lakes  and  steaming  rivers 
are  not  common,  but  the  new  features 
seemed,  somehow,  out  of  place,  and  as  if 
nature  had  made  a  mistake.  One  disliked 
to  see  so  much  good  steam  and  hot  water 
going  to  waste;  whole  towns  might  be 
warmed  by  them,  and  big  wheels  made 
to  go  round.  I  wondered  that  they  had 
not  piped  them  into  the  big  hotels  which 
they  opened  for  us,  and  which  were 
warmed  by  wood  fires. 

At  Norris's  the  big  room  that  the  Presi- 
dent and  I  occupied  was  on  the  ground 
64 


SUNRISE   IN   YELLOWSTONE   PARK. 

From  stereograph,  copyright  1904,  by  Underwood  &  Underwood,  New  York. 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

floor,  and  was  heated  by  a  huge  box  stove. 
As  we  entered  it  to  go  to  bed,  the  Presi- 
dent saidy  "Oom  John,  don't  you  think 
it  is  too  hot  here  ?" 

"I  certainly  do,"  I  replied. 

" Shall  I  open  the  window?" 

"That  will  just  suit  me."  And  he 
threw  the  sash,  which  came  down  to  the 
floor,  all  the  way  up,  making  an  opening 
like  a  doorway.  The  night  was  cold,  but 
neither  of  us  suffered  from  the  abundance 
of  fresh  air. 

The  caretaker  of  the  building  was  a 
big  Swede  called  Andy.  In  the  morning 
Andy  said  that  beat  him:  "There  was 
the  President  of  the  United  States  sleeping 
in  that  room,  with  the  window  open  to  the 
floor,  and  not  so  much  as  one  soldier  out- 
side on  guard." 

The  President  had  counted  much  on 
seeing  the  bears  that  in  summer  board  at 
the  Fountain  Hotel,  but  they  were  not  yet 
65 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

out  of  their  dens.  We  saw  the  track  of 
only  one,  and  he  was  not  making  for  the 
hotel.  At  all  the  formations  where  the 
geysers  are,  the  ground  was  bare  over  a 
large  area.  I  even  saw  a  wild  flower  — 
an  early  buttercup,  not  an  inch  high  — 
in  bloom.  This  seems  to  be  the  earliest 
wild  flower  in  the  Rockies.  It  is  the  only 
fragrant  buttercup  I  know. 

As  we  were  riding  along  in  our  big 
sleigh  toward  the  Fountain  Hotel,  the 
President  suddenly  jumped  out,  and, 
with  his  soft  hat  as  a  shield  to  his  hand, 
captured  a  mouse  that  was  running  along 
over  the  ground  near  us.  He  wanted  it 
for  Dr.  Merriam,  on  the  chance  that  it 
might  be  a  new  species.  While  we  all 
went  fishing  in  the  afternoon,  the  Presi- 
dent skinned  his  mouse,  and  prepared 
the  pelt  to  be  sent  to  Washington.  It  was 
done  as  neatly  as  a  professed  taxidermist 

would  have  done  it.    This  was  the  only 
66 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

game  the  President  killed  in  the  Park.  In 
relating  the  incident  to  a  reporter  while 
I  was  in  Spokane,  the  thought  occurred 
to  me,  Suppose  he  changes  that  u  to  an  o, 
and  makes  the  President  capture  a  moose, 
what  a  pickle  I  shall  be  in!  Is  it  anything 
more  than  ordinary  newspaper  enterprise 
to  turn  a  mouse  into  a  moose  ?  But,  luck- 
ily for  me,  no  such  metamorphosis  hap- 
pened to  that  little  mouse.  It  turned  out 
not  to  be  a  new  species,  as  it  should  have 
been,  but  a  species  new  to  the  Park. 

I  caught  trout  that  afternoon,  on  the 
edge  of  steaming  pools  in  the  Madison 
River  that  seemed  to  my  hand  almost 
blood-warm.  I  suppose  they  found  better 
feeding  where  the  water  was  warm.  On 
the  table  they  did  not  compare  with  our 
Eastern  brook  trout. 

I  was  pleased  to  be  told  at  one  of  the 
hotels  that  they  had  kalsomined  some  of 
the  rooms  with  material  from  one  of  the 
67 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

devil's  paint-pots.  It  imparted  a  soft,  deli- 
cate, pinkish  tint,  not  at  all  suggestive  of 
things  satanic. 

One  afternoon  at  Norris's,  the  Presi- 
dent and  I  took  a  walk  to  observe  the 
birds.  In  the  grove  about  the  barns  there 
was  a  great  number,  the  most  attractive 
to  me  being  the  mountain  bluebird.  These 
birds  we  saw  in  all  parts  of  the  Park,  and 
at  Norris's  there  was  an  unusual  num- 
ber of  them.  How  blue  they  were,  — 
breast  and  all !  In  voice  and  manner  they 
were  almost  identical  with  our  bluebird. 
The  Western  purple  finch  was  abundant 
here  also,  and  juncos,  and  several  kinds 
of  sparrows,  with  an  occasional  Western 
robin.  A  pair  of  wild  geese  were  feeding 
in  the  low,  marshy  ground  not  over  one 
hundred  yards  from  us,  but  when  we 
tried  to  approach  nearer  they  took  wing. 
A  few  geese  and  ducks  seem  to  winter  in 
the  Park. 

68 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

The  second  morning  at  Norris's  one 
of  our  teamsters,  George  Marvin,  sud- 
denly dropped  dead  from  some  heart  af- 
fection, just  as  he  had  finished  caring  for 
his  team.  It  was  a  great  shock  to  us  all. 
I  never  saw  a  better  man  with  a  team 
than  he  was.  I  had  ridden  on  the  seat 
beside  him  all  the  day  previous.  On  one 
of  the  "formations"  our  teams  had  got 
mired  in  the  soft,  putty-like  mud,  and  at 
one  time  it  looked  as  if  they  could  never 
extricate  themselves,  and  I  doubt  if  they 
could  have,  had  it  not  been  for  the  skill 
with  which  Marvin  managed  them.  We 
started  for  the  Grand  Canon  up  the  Yel- 
lowstone that  morning,  and,  in  order  to 
give  myself  a  walk  over  the  crisp  snow  in 
the  clear,  frosty  air,  I  set  out  a  little  while 
in  advance  of  the  teams.  As  I  did  so,  I 
saw  the  President,  accompanied  by  one 
of  the  teamsters,  walking  hurriedly  to- 
ward the  barn  to  pay  his  last  respects  to 
69 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

the  body  of  Marvin.  After  we  had  re- 
turned to  Mammoth  Hot  Springs,  he 
made  inquiries  for  the  young  woman  to 
whom  he  had  been  told  that  Marvin  was 
engaged  to  be  married.  He  looked  her 
up,  and  sat  a  long  time  with  her  in  her 
home,  offering  his  sympathy,  and  speak- 
ing words  of  consolation.  The  act  shows 
the  depth  and  breadth  of  his  humanity. 
At  the  Caffon  Hotel  the  snow  was  very 
deep,  and  had  become  so  soft  from  the 
warmth  of  the  earth  beneath,  as  well  as 
from  the  sun  above,  that  we  could  only 
reach  the  brink  of  the  Canon  on  skis. 
The  President  and  Major  Pitcher  had 
used  skis  before,  but  I  had  not,  and, 
starting  out  without  the  customary  pole, 
I  soon  came  to  grief.  The  snow  gave  way 
beneath  me,  and  I  was  soon  in  an  awk- 
ward predicament.  The  more  I  struggled, 
the  lower  my  head  and  shoulders  went, 
till  only  my  heels,  strapped  to  those  long 
70 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

timbers,  protruded  above  the  snow.  To 
reverse  my  position  was  impossible  till 
some  one  came  and  reached  me  the  end 
of  a  pole,  and  pulled  me  upright.  But  I 
very  soon  got  the  hang  of  the  things,  and 
the  President  and  I  quickly  left  the  super- 
intendent behind.  I  think  I  could  have 
passed  the  President,  but  my  manners 
forbade.  He  was  heavier  than  I  was,  and 
broke  in  more.  When  one  of  his  feet 
would  go  down  half  a  yard  or  more,  I 
noted  with  admiration  the  skilled  diplo- 
macy he  displayed  in  extricating  it.  The 
tendency  of  my  skis  was  all  the  time  to 
diverge,  and  each  to  go  off  at  an  acute 
angle  to  my  main  course,  and  I  had  con- 
stantly to  be  on  the  alert  to  check  this 
tendency. 

Paths  had  been  shoveled  for  us  along 

the  brink  of  the  Canon,  so  that  we  got 

the  usual  views  from  the  different  points. 

The  Canon  was  nearly  free  from  snow, 

71 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

and  was  a  grand  spectacle,  by  far  the 
grandest  to  be  seen  in  the  Park.  The 
President  told  us  that  once,  when  pressed 
for  meat,  while  returning  through  here 
from  one  of  his  hunting  trips,  he  had 
made  his  way  down  to  the  river  that  we 
saw  rushing  along  beneath 'us,  and  had 
caught  some  trout  for  dinner.  Necessity 
alone  could  induce  him  to  fish. 

Across  the  head  of  the  Falls  there  was 
a  bridge  of  snow  and  ice,  upon  which  we 
were  told  that  the  coyotes  passed.  As  the 
season  progressed,  there  would  come  a 
day  when  the  bridge  would  not  be  safe. 
It  would  be  interesting  to  know  if  the 
coyotes  knew  when  this  time  arrived. 

The  only  live  thing  we  saw  in  the 
Canon  was  an  osprey  perched  upon  a 
rock  opposite  us. 

Near  the  falls  of  the  Yellowstone,  as  at 
other  places  we  had  visited,  a  squad  of 
soldiers  had  their  winter  quarters.  The 
7* 


c  <•      c 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

President  called  on  them,  as  he  had  called 
upon  the  others,  looked  over  the  books 
they  had  to  read,  examined  their  house- 
keeping arrangements,  and  conversed 
freely  with  them. 

In  front  of  the  hotel  were  some  low  hills 
separated  by  gentle  valleys.  At  the  Presi- 
dent's suggestion,  he  and  I  raced  on  our 
skis  down  those  inclines.  We  had  only  to 
stand  up  straight,  and  let  gravity  do  the 
rest.  As  we  were  going  swiftly  down 
the  side  of  one  of  the  hills,  I  saw  out  of 
the  corner  of  my  eye  the  President  taking 
a  header  into  the  snow.  The  snow  had 
given  way  beneath  him,  and  nothing 
could  save  him  from  taking  the  plunge. 
I  don't  know  whether  I  called  out,  or 
only  thought,  something  about  the  down- 
fall of  the  administration.  At  any  rate, 
the  administration  was  down,  and  pretty 
well  buried,  but  it  was  quickly  on  its  feet 
again,  shaking  off  the  snow  with  a  boy's 
73 


CAMPING   WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

laughter.  I  kept  straight  on,  and  very 
soon  the  laugh  was  on  me,  for  the  treach- 
erous snow  sank  beneath  me,  and  I  took 
a  header,  too. 

"Who  is  laughing  now,  Oom  John?" 
called  out  the  President. 

The  spirit  of  the  boy  was  in  the  air 
that  day  about  the  Canon  of  the  Yellow- 
stone, and  the  biggest  boy  of  us  all  was 
President  Roosevelt. 

The  snow  was  getting  so  soft  in  the 
middle  of  the 'day  that  our  return  to  the 
Mammoth  Hot  Springs  could  no  longer 
be  delayed.  Accordingly,  we  were  up  in 
the  morning,  and  ready  to  start  on  the 
home  journey,  a  distance  of  twenty  miles, 
by  four  o'clock.  The  snow  bore  up  the 
horses  well  till  mid-forenoon,  when  it 
began  to  give  way  beneath  them.  But 
by  very  careful  management  we  pulled 
through  without  serious  delay,  and  were 
back  again  at  the  house  of  Major  Pitcher 
74 


CAMPING  WITH   THE   PRESIDENT 

in  time  for  luncheon,  being  the  only  out- 
siders who  had  ever  made  the  tour  of  the 
Park  so  early  in  the  season. 

A  few  days  later  I  bade  good-by  to  the 
President,  who  went  on  his  way  to  Cali- 
fornia, while  I  made  a  loop  of  travel  to 
Spokane,  and  around  through  Idaho  and 
Montana,  and  had  glimpses  of  the  great, 
optimistic,  sunshiny  West  that  I  shall  not 
soon  forget. 


PRESIDENT   ROOSEVELT  AS  A 

NATURE-LOVER   AND 

OBSERVER 


PRESIDENT   ROOSEVELT 

AS  A  NATURE-LOVER 

AND  OBSERVER 

OUR  many-sided  President  has  a  side 
to  his  nature  of  which  the  public  has 
heard  but  little,  and  which,  in  view  of 
his  recent  criticism  of  what  he  calls  the 
nature  fakirs,  is  of  especial  interest  and 
importance.  I  refer  to  his  keenness  and 
enthusiasm  as  a  student  of  animal  life, 
and  his  extraordinary  powers  of  observa- 
tion. The  charge  recently  made  against 
him  that  he  is  only  a  sportsman  and  has 
only  a  sportsman's  interest  in  nature  is 
very  wide  of  the  mark.  Why,  I  cannot 
now  recall  that  I  have  ever  met  a  man 
with  a  keener  and  more  comprehensive 
interest  in  the  wild  life  about  us  —  an 
interest  that  is  at  once  scientific  and 
79 


PRESIDENT   ROOSEVELT 

thoroughly  human.  And  by  human  I  do 
not  mean  anything  akin  to  the  sentiment- 
alism  that  sicklies  o'er  so  much  of  our 
more  recent  natural  history  writing,  and 
that  inspires  the  founding  of  hospitals 
for  sick  cats;  but  I  mean  his  robust, 
manly  love  for  all  open-air  life,  and  his 
sympathetic  insight  into  it.  When  I  first 
read  his  "Wilderness  Hunter,"  many 
years  ago,  I  was  impressed  by  his  rare 
combination  of  the  sportsman  and  the 
naturalist.  When  I  accompanied  him  on 
his  trip  to  the  Yellowstone  Park  in  April, 
1903,  I  got  a  fresh  impression  of  the  ex- 
tent of  his  natural  history  knowledge  and 
of  his  trained  powers  of  observation.  No- 
thing escaped  him,  from  bears  to  mice, 
from  wild  geese  to  chickadees,  from  elk 
to  red  squirrels;  he  took  it  all  in,  and  he 
took  it  in  as  only  an  alert,  vigorous  mind 
can  take  it  in.  On  that  occasion  I  was 

able  to  help  him  identify  only  one  new 
80 


NATURE-LOVER   AND    OBSERVER 

bird,  as  I  have  related  in  the  foregoing 
chapter.  All  the  other  birds  he  recog- 
nized as  quickly  as  I  did. 

During  a  recent  half-day  spent  with 
the  President  at  Sagamore  Hill  I  got  a 
still  more  vivid  impression  of  his  keen- 
ness and  quickness  in  all  natural  history 
matters.  The  one  passion  of  his  life 
seemed  natural  history,  and  the  appear- 
ance of  a  new  warbler  in  his  woods  — 
new  in  the  breeding  season  on  Long 
Island  —  seemed  an  event  that  threw  the 
affairs  of  state  and  of  the  presidential 
succession  quite  into  the  background. 
Indeed,  he  fairly  bubbled  over  with  de- 
light at  the  thought  of  his  new  birds  and 
at  the  prospect  of  showing  them  to  his 
visitors.  He  said  to  my  friend  who  ac- 
companied me,  John  Lewis  Childs,  of 
Floral  Park,  a  former  State  Senator,  that 
he  could  not  talk  politics  then,  he  wanted 

to  talk  and  to  hunt  birds.  And  it  was  not 
81 


PRESIDENT   ROOSEVELT 

long  before  he  was  as  hot  on  the  trail  of 
that  new  warbler  as  he  had  recently  been 
on  the  trail  of  some  of  the  great  trusts. 
Fancy  a  President  of  the  United  States 
stalking  rapidly  across  bushy  fields  to 
the  woods,  eager  as  a  boy  and  filled  with 
the  one  idea  of  showing  to  his  visitors  the 
black- throated  green  warbler!  We  were 
presently  in  the  edge  of  the  woods  and 
standing  under  a  locust  tree,  where  the 
President  had  several  times  seen  and 
heard  his  rare  visitant.  "That's  his  note 
now/*  he  said,  and  we  all  three  recog- 
nized it  at  the  same  instant.  It  came  from 
across  a  little  valley  fifty  yards  farther  in 
the  woods.  We  were  soon  standing  under 
the  tree  in  which  the  bird  was  singing, 
and  presently  had  our  glasses  upon  him. 
"There  is  no  mistake  about  it,  Mr. 
President,"  we  both  said;  "it  is  surely 
the  black-throated  green,"  and  he  laughed 

in  glee.    "I  knew  it  could  be  no  other; 
82 


<    w 


NATURE-LOVER   AND   OBSERVER 

there  is  no  mistaking  that  song  and  those 
markings.  *  Trees,  trees,  murmuring 
trees!'  some  one  reports  him  as  saying. 
Now  if  we  could  only  find  the  nest;"  but 
we  did  not,  though  it  was  doubtless  not 
far  off. 

Our  warblers,  both  in  color  and  in  song, 
are  bewildering  even  to  the  experienced 
ornithologist,  but  the  President  had  mas- 
tered most  of  them.  Not  long  before  he 
had  written  me  from  Washington  that  he 
had  just  come  in  from  walking  with  Mrs. 
Roosevelt  about  the  White  House  grounds 
looking  up  arriving  warblers.  "Most  of 
the  warblers  were  up  in  the  tops  of  the 
trees,  and  I  could  not  get  a  good  glimpse 
of  them;  but  there  was  one  with  chestnut 
cheeks,  with  bright  yellow  behind  the 
cheeks,  and  a  yellow  breast  thickly 
streaked  with  black,  which  has  puzzled 
me.  Doubtless  it  is  a  very  common  kind 
which  has  for  the  moment  slipped  my 
83 


PRESIDENT   ROOSEVELT 

memory.  I  saw  the  Blackburnian,  the 
summer  yellowbird,  and  the  black- 
throated  green."  The  next  day  he  wrote 
me  that  he  had  identified  the  puzzling 
warbler;  it  was  the  Cape  May.  There  is 
a  tradition  among  newspaper  men  in 
Washington  that  a  Cape  May  warbler 
once  broke  up  a  Cabinet  meeting ;  maybe 
this  was  that  identical  bird. 

At  luncheon  he  told  us  of  some  of  his 
ornithological  excursions  in  the  White 
House  grounds,  how  people  would  stare 
at  him  as  he  stood  gazing  up  into  the 
trees  like  one  demented.  "No  doubt 
they  thought  me  insane."  "Yes,"  said 
Mrs.  Roosevelt,  "and  as  I  was  always 
with  him,  they  no  doubt  thought  I  was 
the  nurse  that  had  him  in  charge." 

In    his    "Pastimes    of    an    American 

Hunter"  he  tells  of  the  owls  that  in  June 

sometimes  came  after  nightfall  about  the 

White    House.     "Sometimes    they    flew 

84 


NATURE-LOVER   AND   OBSERVER 

noiselessly  to  and  fro,  and  seemingly 
caught  big  insects  on  the  wing.  At  other 
times  they  would  perch  on  the  iron  awn- 
ing bars  directly  overhead.  Once  one  of 
them  perched  over  one  of  the  windows 
and  sat  motionless,  looking  exactly  like 
an  owl  of  Pallas  Athene." 

He  knew  the  vireos  also,  and  had  seen 
and  heard  the  white-eyed  at  his  Virginia 
place,  "Pine  Knot,"  and  he  described 
its  peculiar,  emphatic  song.  As  I  moved 
along  with  the  thought  of  this  bird  in 
mind  and  its  snappy,  incisive  song,  as  I 
used  to  hear  it  in  the  old  days  near  Wash- 
ington, I  fancied  I  caught  its  note  in  a 
dense  bushy  place  below  us.  We  paused 
to  listen.  "A  catbird,"  said  the  President, 
and  so  we  all  agreed.  We  saw  and  heard 
a  chewink.  "Out  West  the  chewink  calls 
like  a  catbird,"  he  observed.  Continuing 
our  walk,  we  skirted  the  edge  of  an  or- 
chard. Here  the  President  called  our 
85 


PRESIDENT   ROOSEVELT 

attention  to  a  high-hole's  nest  in  "a  cavity 
of  an  old  apple  tree.  He  rapped  on  the 
trunk  of  the  tree  that  we  might  hear  the 
smothered  cry  for  food  of  the  young  in- 
side. A  few  days  before  he  had  found 
one  of  the  half-fledged  young  on  the 
ground  under  the  tree,  and  had  managed 
to  reach  up  and  drop  it  back  into  the 
nest.  "What  a  boiling  there  was  in  there," 
he  said,  "when  the  youngster  dropped 
in!" 

A  cuckoo  called  in  a  tree  overhead,  the 
first  I  had  heard  this  season.  I  feared 
the  cold  spring  had  cut  them  off.  "The 
yellow- billed,  undoubtedly,"  the  Presi- 
dent observed,  and  was  confirmed  by  Mr. 
Childs.  I  was  not  certain  that  I  knew 
the  call  of  the  yellow-billed  from  that  of 
the  black-billed.  "We  have  them  both," 
said  the  President,  "but  the  yellow-billed 
is  the  more  common." 

We  continued  our  walk  along  a  path 
86 


NATURE-LOVER   AND   OBSERVER 

that  led  down  through  a  most  delightful 
wood  to  the  bay.  Everywhere  the  marks 
of  the  President's  axe  were  visible,  as  he 
had  with  his  own  hand  thinned  out  and 
cleared  up  a  large  section  of  the  wood. 

A  few  days  previous  he  had  seen  some 
birds  in  a  group  of  tulip-trees  near  the 
edge  of  the  woods  facing  the  water;  he 
thought  they  were  rose-breasted  gros- 
beaks, but  could  not  quite  make  them 
out.  He  had  hoped  to  find  them  there 
now,  and  we  looked  and  listened  for 
some  moments,  but  no  birds  appeared. 

Then  he  led  us  to  a  little  pond  in  the 
midst  of  the  forest  where  the  night  heron 
sometimes  nested.  A  pair  of  them  had 
nested  there  in  a  big  water  maple  the  year 
before,  but  the  crows  had  broken  them 
up.  As  we  reached  the  spot  the  cry  of 
the  heron  was  heard  over  the  tree-tops. 
"That  is  its  alarm  note,"  said  the  Presi- 
dent. I  remarked  that  it  was  much  like 
87 


PRESIDENT   ROOSEVELT 

the  cry  of  the  little  green  heron.  "Yes, 
it  is,  but  if  we  wait  here  till  the  heron  re- 
turns, and  we  are  not  discovered,  you 
would  hear  his  other  more  characteristic 
call,  a  hoarse  quawk." 

Presently  we  moved  on  along  another 
path  through  the  woods  toward  the 
house.  A  large,  wide-spreading  oak  at- 
tracted my  attention  —  a  superb  tree. 

"You  see  by  the  branching  of  that 
oak,"  said  the  President,  "that  when  it 
grew  up  this  wood  was  an  open  field  and 
maybe  under  the  plough;  it  is  only  in  fields 
that  oaks  take  that  form."  I  knew  it  was 
true,  but  my  mind  did  not  take  in  the  fact 
when  I  first  saw  the  tree.  His  mind  acts 
with  wonderful  swiftness  and  complete- 
ness, as  I  had  abundant  proof  that  day. 

As  we  walked  along  we  discussed  many 
questions,  all  bearing  directly  or  indirectly 
upon  natural  history.  The  conversation 

was  perpetually  interrupted  by  some  bird- 
88 


A  BIT  OF  WOODLAND  ON  THE  SLOPE  TOWARDS  OYSTER  BAY 

From  stereograph,  copyright  1907,  by  Underwood  &  Underwood,  New  York 


NATURE-LOVER   AND   OBSERVER 

note  in  the  trees  about  us  which  we  would 
pause  to  identify  —  the  President's  ear, 
I  thought,  being  the  most  alert  of  the 
three.  Continuing  the  talk,  he  dwelt  upon 
the  inaccuracy  of  most  persons'  seeing, 
and  upon  the  unreliability  as  natural 
history  of  most  of  the  stories  told  by 
guides  and  hunters.  Sometimes  writers 
of  repute  were  to  be  read  with  caution. 
He  mentioned  that  excellent  hunting 
book  of  Colonel  Dodge's,  in  which  are 
described  two  species  of  the  puma,  one 
in  the  West  called  the  "  mountain  lion," 
very  fierce  and  dangerous;  the  other  called 
in  the  East  the  "panther," — a  harmless 
and  cowardly  animal.  "Both  the  same 
species,"  said  the  President,  "  and  almost 
identical  in  disposition." 

Nothing  is  harder  than  to  convince  a 

person  that  he  has  seen  wrongly.    The 

other  day  a  doctor  accosted  me  in  the 

street  of  one  of  our  inland  towns  to  tell 

89 


PRESIDENT   ROOSEVELT 

me  of  a  strange  bird  he  had  seen;  the 
bird  was  blood-red  all  over  and  was  in 
some  low  bushes  by  the  roadside.  Of 
course  I  thought  of  our  scarlet  tanager, 
which  was  then  just  arriving.  No,  he 
knew  that  bird  with  black  wings  and  tail; 
this  bird  had  no  black  upon  it,  but  every 
quill  and  feather  was  vivid  scarlet.  The 
doctor  was  very  positive,  so  I  had  to  tell 
him  we  had  no  such  bird  in  our  state. 
There  was  the  summer  redbird  common 
in  the  Southern  States,  but  this  place  is 
much  beyond  its  northern  limit,  and,  be- 
sides, this  bird  is  not  scarlet,  but  is  of  a 
dull  red.  Of  course  he  had  seen  a  tana- 
ger, but  in  the  shade  of  the  bushes  the 
black  of  the  wings  and  tail  had  escaped 
him. 

This  was  simply  a  case  of  mis-seeing 
in  an  educated  man;  but  in  the  untrained 
minds  of  trappers  and  woodsmen  gener- 
ally there  is  an  element  of  the  supersti- 
90 


NATURE-LOVER   AND    OBSERVER 

tious,  and  a  love  for  the  marvelous,  which 
often  prevents  them  from  seeing  the  wild 
life  about  them  just  as  it  is.  They  pos- 
sess the  mythopoeic  faculty,  and  they 
unconsciously  give  play  to  it. 

Thus  our  talk  wandered  as  we  wan- 
dered along  the  woods  and  field  paths. 
The  President  brought  us  back  by  the 
corner  of  a  clover  meadow  where  he  was 
sure  a  pair  of  red-shouldered  starlings 
had  a  nest.  He  knew  it  was  an  unlikely 
place  for  starlings  to  nest,  as  they  breed 
in  marshes  and  along  streams  and  in  the 
low  bushes  on  lake  borders,  but  this  pair 
had  always  shown  great  uneasiness  when 
he  had  approached  this  plot  of  tall  clover. 
As  we  drew  near,  the  male  starling  ap- 
peared and  uttered  his  alarm  note.  The 
President  struck  out  to  look  for  the  nest, 
and  for  a  time  the  Administration  was 
indeed  in  clover,  with  the  alarmed  black- 
bird circling  above  it  and  showing  great 
91 


PRESIDENT   ROOSEVELT 

agitation.  For  my  part,  I  hesitated  on  the 
edge  of  the  clover  patch,  having  a  farmer's 
dread  of  seeing  fine  grass  trampled  down. 
I  suggested  to  the  President  that  he  was 
injuring  his  hay  crop;  that  the  nest 
was  undoubtedly  there  or  near  there ;  so 
he  came  out  of  the  tall  grass,  and,  after 
looking  into  the  old  tumbled-down  barn 
—  a  regular  early  settler's  barn,  with 
huge  timbers  hewn  from  forest  trees  — 
that  stood  near  by,  and  which  the  Presi- 
dent said  he  preserved  for  its  picturesque- 
ness  and  its  savor  of  old  times,  as  well  as 
for  a  place  to  romp  in  with  his  dogs  and 
children,  we  made  our  way  to  the  house. 

The  purple  finch  nested  in  the  trees 
about  the  house,  and  the  President  was 
greatly  pleased  that  he  was  able  to  show 
us  this  bird  also. 

A  few  days  previous  to  our  visit  the 
children  had  found  a  bird's  nest  on  the 
ground,  in  the  grass,  a  few  yards  below 
92 


A  PATH  IN  THE  WOODS  LEADING  TO  COLD  SPRING  HARBOR 

From  stereograph,  copyright  1907,  by  Underwood  &  Underwood,  New  York 


NATURE-LOVER   AND    OBSERVER 

the  front  of  the  house.  There  were  young 
birds  in  it,  and  as  the  President  had  seen 
the  grasshopper  sparrow  about  there,  he 
concluded  the  nest  belonged  to  it.  We 
went  down  to  investigate  it,  and  found 
the  young  gone  and  two  addled  eggs  in 
the  nest.  When  the  President  saw  those 
eggs,  he  said:  "That  is  not  the  nest  of  the 
grasshopper  sparrow,  after  all;  those  are 
the  eggs  of  the  song  sparrow,  though 
the  nest  is  more  like  that  of  the  vesper 
sparrow.  The  eggs  of  the  grasshopper 
sparrow  are  much  lighter  in  color  —  al- 
most white,  with  brown  specks."  For 
my  part,  I  had  quite  forgotten  for  the 
moment  how  the  eggs  of  the  little  sparrow 
looked  or  differed  in  color  from  those  of 
the  song  sparrow.  But  the  President  has 
so  little  to  remember  that  he  forgets  none 
of  these  minor  things!  His  bird-lore 
and  wood-lore  seem  as  fresh  as  if  just 
learned. 

93 


PRESIDENT   ROOSEVELT 

I  asked  him  if  he  ever  heard  that  rare 
piece  of  bird  music,  the  flight  song  of  the 
oven-bird.  "Yes,"  he  replied,  "we  fre- 
quently hear  it  of  an  evening,  while  we 
are  sitting  on  the  porch,  right  down  there 
at  the  corner  of  the  woods."  Now,  this 
flight  song  of  the  oven-bird  was  unknown 
to  the  older  ornithologists,  and  Thoreau, 
with  all  his  years  of  patient  and  tireless 
watching  of  birds  and  plants,  never  iden- 
tified it;  but  the  President  had  caught  it 
quickly  and  easily,  sitting  on  his  porch 
at  Sagamore  Hill.  I  believe  I  may  take 
the  credit  of  being  the  first  to  identify 
and  describe  this  song  —  back  in  the  old 
"Wake  Robin"  days. 

In  an  inscription  in  a  book  the  Presi- 
dent had  just  given  me  he  had  referred 
to  himself  as  my  pupil.  Now  I  was  to  be 
his  pupil.  In  dealing  with  the  birds  I 
could  keep  pace  with  him  pretty  easily, 
and,  maybe,  occasionally  lead  him;  but 
94 


NATURE-LOVER   AND   OBSERVER 

when  we  came  to  consider  big  game  and 
the  animal  life  of  the  globe,  I  was  no- 
where. His  experience  with  the  big  game 
has  been  very  extensive,  and  his  acquaint- 
ance with  the  literature  of  the  subject  is 
far  beyond  my  own;  and  he  forgets  no- 
thing, while  my  memory  is  a  sieve.  In 
his  study  he  set  before  me  a  small  bronze 
elephant  in  action,  made  by  the  famous 
French  sculptor  Barye.  He  asked  me  if  I 
saw  anything  wrong  with  it.  I  looked  it 
over  carefully,  and  was  obliged  to  confess 
that,  so  far  as  I  could  see,  it  was  all  right. 
Then  he  placed  before  me  another,  by  a 
Japanese  artist.  Instantly  I  saw  what  was 
wrong  with  the  Frenchman's  elephant. 
Its  action  was  like  that  of  a  horse  or  a 
cow,  or  any  trotting  animal — a  hind 
and  a  front  foot  on  opposite  sides  mov- 
ing together.  The  Japanese  had  caught 
the  real  movement  of  the  animal,  which 
is  that  of  a  pacer  —  both  legs  on  the  same 
95 


PRESIDENT   ROOSEVELT 

side  at  a  time.  What  different  effects  the 
two  actions  gave  the  statuettes !  The  free 
swing  of  the  Japanese  elephant  you  at 
once  recognize  as  the  real  thing.  The 
President  laughed,  and  said  he  had  never 
seen  any  criticism  of  Barye's  elephant  on 
this  ground,  or  any  allusion  to  his  mistake; 
it  was  his  own  discovery.  I  was  fairly 
beaten  at  my  own  game  of  observation. 

He  then  took  down  a  copy  of  his 
"  Ranch  Life  and  the  Hunting  Trail," 
and  pointed  out  to  me  the  mistakes  the 
artist  had  made  in  some  of  his  drawings 
of  big  Western  game. 

"Do  you  see  anything  wrong  in  the 
head  of  the  pronghorn  ? "  he  asked,  re- 
ferring to  the  animal  which  the  hunter  is 
bringing  in  on  the  saddle  behind  him. 
Again  I  had  to  confess  that  I  could  not. 
Then  he  showed  me  the  mounted  head 
of  a  pronghorn  over  the  mantel  in  one  of 

his  rooms,  and  called  my  attention  to  the 
96 


NATURE-LOVER   AND   OBSERVER 

fact  that  the  eye  was  close  under  the  root 
of  the  horn,  whereas  in  the  picture  the 
artist  had  placed  it  about  two  inches  too 
low.  And  in  the  artist's  picture  of  the 
pronghorn,  which  heads  Chapter  IX,  he 
had  made  the  tail  much  too  long,  as  he 
had  the  tail  of  the  elk  on  the  opposite 
page. 

I  had  heard  of  Mr.  Roosevelt's  attend- 
ing a  fair  in  Orange  County,  while  he 
was  Governor,  where  a  group  of  mounted 
deer  were  exhibited.  It  seems  the  group 
had  had  rough  usage,  and  one  of  the  deer 
had  lost  its  tail  and  a  new  one  had  been 
supplied.  No  one  had  noticed  anything 
wrong  with  it  till  Mr/ Roosevelt  came 
along.  "But  the  minute  he  clapped  his 
eyes  on  that  group,"  says  the  exhibitor, 
"he  called  out,  'Here,  Gunther,  what  do 
you  mean  by  putting  a  white-tail  deer's 
tail  on  a  black-tail  deer  ? "  Such  closeness 
and  accuracy  of  observation  even  few 
97 


PRESIDENT   ROOSEVELT 

naturalists  can  lay  claim  to.  I  mentioned 
the  incident  to  him,  and  he  recalled  it 
laughingly.  He  then  took  down  a  volume 
on  the  deer  family  which  he  had  himself 
had  a  share  in  writing,  and  pointed  out 
two  mistakes  in  the  naming  of  the  pic- 
tures which  had  been  overlooked.  The 
picture  of  the  "white-tail  in  flight"  was 
the  black-tail  of  Colorado,  and  the  picture 
of  the  black-tail  of  Colorado  showed  the 
black-tail  of  Columbia  —  the  difference 
this  time  being  seen  in  the  branching  of 
the  horns. 

The  President  took  us  through  his 
house  and  showed  us  his  trophies  of  the 
chase  —  bearskins  of  all  sorts  and  sizes 
on  the  floors,  panther  and  lynx  skins  on 
the  chairs,  and  elk  heads  and  deer  heads 
on  the  walls,  and  one  very  large  skin  of 
the  gray  timber  wolf.  We  examined  the 
teeth  of  the  wolf,  barely  more  than  an 
inch  long,  and  we  all  laughed  at  the  idea 
98 


A  YEARLING  IN  THE   APPLE  ORCHARD 
From  stereograph,  copyright  1907,  by  Underwood  &  Underwood,  Ne.w  York 


NATURE-LOVER   AND   OBSERVER 

of  its  reaching  the  heart  of  a  caribou 
through  the  breast  by  a  snap,  or  any 
number  of  snaps,  as  it  has  been  reported 
to  do.  I  doubt  if  it  could  have  reached 
the  heart  of  a  gobbler  turkey  in  that  way 
at  a  single  snap. 

The  President's  interest  in  birds,  and 
in  natural  history  generally,  dates  from 
his  youth.  While  yet  in  his  teens  he  pub- 
lished a  list  of  the  birds  of  Franklin 
County,  New  York.  He  showed  me  a 
bird  journal  which  he  kept  in  Egypt 
when  he  was  a  lad  of  fourteen,  and  a 
case  of  three  African  plovers  which  he 
had  set  up  at  that  time;  and  they  were 
well  done. 

Evidently  one  of  his  chief  sources  of 
pleasure  at  Sagamore  Hill  is  the  com- 
panionship of  the  birds.  He  missed  the 
bobolink,  the  seaside  finch,  and  the 
marsh  wren,  but  his  woods  and  grounds 
abounded  in  other  species.  He  knew  and 
99 


PRESIDENT   ROOSEVELT 

enjoyed  not  only  all  the  more  common 
birds,  but  many  rarer  and  shyer  ones 
that  few  country  people  ever  take  note 
of — such  as  the  Maryland  yellow-throat, 
the  black  and  white  creeper,  the  yellow- 
breasted  chat,  the  oven-bird,  the  prairie 
warbler,  the  great  crested  flycatcher,  the 
wood  pewee,  and  the  sharp-tailed  finch. 
He  enjoyed  the  little  owls,  too.  "It  is  a 
pity  the  little-eared  owl  is  called  a  screech 
owl.  Its  tremulous,  quavering  cry  is  not 
a  screech  at  all,  and  has  an  attraction  of 
its  own.  These  little  owls  come  up  to  the 
house  after  dark,  and  are  fond  of  sitting 
on  the  elk's  antlers  over  the  gable.  When 
the  moon  is  up,  by  choosing  one's  posi- 
tion, the  little  owl  appears  in  sharp  out- 
line against  the  bright  disk,  seated  on  his 
many-tined  perch." 

A  few  days  after  my  visit  he  wrote  me 
that  he  had  identified  the  yellow-throated 
or  Dominican  warbler  in  his  woods,  the 

IOO 


NATURE-LOVER  AND   OBSERVER 

first  he  had  ever  seen.  I  had  to  confess 
to  him  that  I  had  never  seen  the  bird.  It 
is  very  rare  north  of  Maryland.  The 
same  letter  records  several  interesting 
little  incidents  in  the  wild  life  about  him: 
"The  other  night  I  took  out  the  boys 
in  rowboats  for  a  camping-out  expedi- 
tion. We  camped  on  the  beach  under  a 
low  bluff  near  the  grove  where  a  few 
years  ago  on  a  similar  expedition  we  saw 
a  red  fox.  This  time  two  young  foxes, 
evidently  this  year's  cubs,  came  around 
the  camp  half  a  dozen  times  during  the 
night,  coming  up  within  ten  yards  of  the 
fire  to  pick  up  scraps  and  seeming  to  be 
very  little  bothered  by  our  presence.  Yes- 
terday on  the  tennis  ground  I  found  a 
mole  shrew.  He  was  near  the  side  lines 
first.  I  picked  him  up  in  my  handker- 
chief, for  he  bit  my  hand,  and  after  we 
had  all  looked  at  him  I  let  him  go;  but 
in  a  few  minutes  he  came  back  and  delib- 

101 


PRESIDENT  ROOSEVELT 

erately  crossed  the  tennis  grounds  by  the 
net.  As  he  ran  over  the  level  floor  of  the 
court,  his  motion  reminded  all  of  us  of 
the  motion  of  those  mechanical  mice  that 
run  around  on  wheels  when  wound  up. 
A  chipmunk  that  lives  near  the  tennis 
court  continually  crosses  it  when  the 
game  is  in  progress.  He  has  done  it  two 
or  three  times  this  year,  and  either  he  or 
his  predecessor  has  had  the  same  habit 
for  several  years.  I  am  really  puzzled 
to  know  why  he  should  go  across  this 
perfectly  bare  surface,  with  the  players 
jumping  about  on  it,  when  he  is  not 
frightened  and  has  no  reason  that  I  can 
see  for  going.  Apparently  he  grows  ac- 
customed to  the  players  and  moves  about 
among  them  as  he  would  move  about,  for 
instance,  among  a  herd  of  cattle/* 

The  President  is  a  born  nature-lover, 
and  he  has  what  does  not  always  go  with 
this  passion  —  remarkable  powers  of  ob- 

102 


NATURE-LOVER   AND   OBSERVER 

servation.  He  sees  quickly  and  surely, 
not  less  so  with  the  corporeal  eye  than 
with  the  mental.  His  exceptional  vital- 
ity, his  awareness  all  around,  gives  the 
clue  to  his  powers  of  seeing.  The  chief 
qualification  of  a  born  observer  is  an 
alert,  sensitive,  objective  type  of  mind, 
and  this  Roosevelt  has  in  a  preeminent 
degree. 

You  may  know  the  true  observer,  not 
by  the  big  things  he  sees,  but  by  the 
little  things;  and  then  not  by  the  things 
he  sees  with  effort  and  premeditation,  but 
by  his  effortless,  unpremeditated  seeing — 
the  quick,  spontaneous  action  of  his  mind 
in  the  presence  of  natural  objects.  Every- 
body sees  the  big  things,  and  anybody  can 
go  out  with  note-book  and  opera-glass  and 
make  a  dead  set  at  the  birds,  or  can  go 
into  the  northern  forests  and  interview 
guides  and  trappers  and  Indians,  and 
stare  in  at  the  door  of  the  "  school  of  the 
103 


PRESIDENT  ROOSEVELT 

woods."  None  of  these  things  evince 
powers  of  observation;  they  only  evince 
industry  and  intention.  In  fact,  born  ob- 
servers are  about  as  rare  as  born  poets. 
Plenty  of  men  can  see  straight  and  report 
straight  what  they  see;  but  the  men  who 
see  what  others  miss,  who  see  quickly 
and  surely,  who  have  the  detective  eye, 
like  Sherlock  Holmes,  who  "get  the 
drop,"  so  to  speak,  on  every  object,  who 
see  minutely  and  who  see  whole,  are  rare 
indeed. 

President  Roosevelt  comes  as  near 
fulfilling  this  ideal  as  any  man  I  have 
known.  His  mind  moves  with  wonderful 
celerity,  and  yet  as  an  observer  he  is 
very  cautious,  jumps  to  no  hasty  conclu- 
sions. 

He  had  written  me,  toward  the  end  of 
May,  that  while  at  Pine  Knot  in  Vir- 
ginia he  had  seen  a  small  flock  of  pas- 
senger pigeons.  As  I  had  been  following 
104 


NATURE-LOVER   AND   OBSERVER 

up  the  reports  of  wild  pigeons  from  vari- 
ous parts  of  our  own  state  during  the 
past  two  or  three  years,  this  statement  of 
the  President's  made  me  prick  up  my 
ears.  In  my  reply  I  said,  "I  hope  you  are 
sure  about  those  pigeons,"  and  I  told 
him  of  my  interest  in  the  subject,  and 
also  how  all  reports  of  pigeons  in  the 
East  had  been  discredited  by  a  man  in 
Michigan  who  was  writing  a  book  on  the 
subject.  This  made  him  prick  up  his 
ears,  and  he  replied  that  while  he  felt  very 
certain  he  had  seen  a  small  band  of  the 
old  wild  pigeons,  yet  he  might  have  been 
deceived;  the  eye  sometimes  plays  one 
tricks.  He  said  that  in  his  old  ranch  days 
he  and  a  cowboy  companion  thought  one 
day  that  they  had  discovered  a  colony  of 
black  prairie  dogs,  thanks  entirely  to  the 
peculiar  angle  at  which  the  light  struck 
them.  He  said  that  while  he  was  Presi- 
dent he  did  not  want  to  make  any  state- 
105 


PRESIDENT   ROOSEVELT 

ment,  even  about  pigeons,  for  the  truth 
of  which  he  did  not  have  good  evidence. 
He  would  have  the  matter  looked  into  by 
a  friend  at  Pine  Knot  upon  whom  he 
could  depend.  He  did  so,  and  convinced 
himself  and  me  also  that  he  had  really 
seen  wild  pigeons.  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
telling  him  that  in  the  same  mail  with 
his  letter  came  the  news  to  me  of  a  large 
flock  of  wild  pigeons  having  been  seen 
near  the  Beaverkill  in  Sullivan  County, 
New  York.  While  he  was  verifying  his 
observation  I  was  in  Sullivan  County 
verifying  this  report.  I  saw  and  ques- 
tioned persons  who  had  seen  the  pigeons, 
and  I  came  away  fully  convinced  that  a 
flock  of  probably  a  thousand  birds  had 
been  seen  there  late  in  the  afternoon  of 
May  23.  "You  need  have  no  doubt 
about  it/'  said  the  most  competent 
witness,  an  old  farmer.  "I  lived  here 
when  the  pigeons  nested  here  in  count- 
106 


NATURE-LOVER  AND   OBSERVER 

less  numbers  forty  years  ago.  I  know 
pigeons  as  I  know  folks,  and  these  were 
pigeons." 

I  mention  this  incident  of  the  pigeons 
because  I  know  that  the  fact  that  they 
have  been  lately  seen  in  considerable 
numbers  will  be  good  news  to  a  large 
number  of  readers. 

The  President's  nature-love  is  deep 
and  abiding.  Not  every  bird  student 
succeeds  in  making  the  birds  a  part  of 
his  life.  Not  till  you  have  long  and  sym- 
pathetic intercourse  with  them,  in  fact, 
not  till  you  have  loved  them  for  their  own 
sake,  do  they  enter  into  and  become  a 
part  of  your  life.  I  could  quote  many 
passages  from  President  Roosevelt's 
books  which  show  how  he  has  felt  and 
loved  the  birds,  and  how  discriminating 
his  ear  is  with  regard  to  their  songs.  Here 
is  one:  — 

"The  meadow-lark  is  a  singer  of  a 

107 


PRESIDENT   ROOSEVELT 

higher  order  [than  the  plains  skylark], 
deserving  to  rank  with  the  best.  Its  song 
has  length,  variety,  power,  and  rich  mel- 
ody, and  there  is  in  it  sometimes  a  ca- 
dence of  wild  sadness  inexpressibly  touch- 
ing. Yet  I  cannot  say  that  either  song 
would  appeal  to  others  as  it  appeals  to  me; 
for  to  me  it  comes  forever  laden  with  a 
hundred  memories  and  associations  — 
with  the  sight  of  dim  hills  reddening  in 
the  dawn,  with  the  breath  of  cool  morn- 
ing winds  blowing  across  lonely  plains, 
with  the  scent  of  flowers  on  the  sunlit 
prairie,  with  the  motion  of  fiery  horses, 
with  all  the  strong  thrill  of  eager  and 
buoyant  life.  I  doubt  if  any  man  can 
judge  dispassionately  the  bird-songs  of 
his  own  country;  he  cannot  disassociate 
them  from  the  sights  and  sounds  of  the 
land  that  is  so  dear  to  him." 

Here  is  another,  touching  upon  some 
European   song-birds  as  compared  with 
108 


NATURE-LOVER   AND   OBSERVER 

some  of  our  own:  "No  one  can  help  lik- 
ing the  lark;  it  is  such  a  brave,  honest, 
cheery  bird,  and  moreover  its  song  is  ut- 
tered in  the  air,  and  is  very  long-sustained. 
But  it  is  by  no  means  a  musician  of  the 
first  rank.  The  nightingale  is  a  performer 
of  a  very  different  and  far  higher  or- 
der; yet  though  it  is  indeed  a  notable  and 
admirable  singer,  it  is  an  exaggeration 
to  call  it  unequaled.  In  melody,  and 
above  all  in  that  finer,  higher  melody 
where  the  chords  vibrate  with  the  touch 
of  eternal  sorrow,  it  cannot  rank  with 
such  singers  as  the  wood-thrush  and 
the  hermit-thrush.  The  serene  ethereal 
beauty  of  the  hermit's  song,  rising  and 
falling  through  the  still  evening,  under 
the  archways  of  hoary  mountain  forests 
that  have  endured  from  time  everlasting; 
the  golden,  leisurely  chiming  of  the  wood- 
thrush,  sounding  on  June  afternoons, 

stanza  by  stanza,  through  the  sun-flecked 
109 


PRESIDENT  ROOSEVELT 

groves  of  tall  hickories,  oaks,  and  chest- 
nuts; with  these  there  is  nothing  in  the 
nightingale's  song  to  compare.  But  in 
volume  and  continuity,  in  tuneful,  volu- 
ble, rapid  outpouring  and  ardor,  above 
all  in  skillful  and  intricate  variation  of 
theme,  its  song  far  surpasses  that  of 
either  of  the  thrushes.  In  all  these  re- 
spects it  is  more  just  to  compare  it  with 
the  mocking-bird's,  which,  as  a  rule,  like- 
wise falls  short  precisely  on  those  points 
where  the  songs  of  the  two  thrushes 
excel." 

In  his  "Pastimes  of  an  American 
Hunter"  he  says:  "It  is  an  incalculable 
added  pleasure  to  any  one's  sense  of  hap- 
piness if  he  or  she  grows  to  know,  even 
slightly  and  imperfectly,  how  to  read  and 
enjoy  the  wonder-book  of  nature.  All 
hunters  should  be  nature-lovers.  It  is  to 
be  hoped  that  the  days  of  mere  wasteful, 
boastful  slaughter  are  past,  and  that 
no 


NATURE-LOVER   AND    OBSERVER 

from  now  on  the  hunter  will  stand  fore- 
most in  working  for  the  preservation  and 
perpetuation  of  the  wild  life,  whether  big 
or  little."  Surely  this  man  is  the  rarest 
kind  of  a  sportsman. 


RETURN 


CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 

202  Main  Library 


642-341 


LOAN  PERIOD  1 
HOME  USE 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 
1 -month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling  642-3405 
6-month  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing  books  to  Circulatior 
Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  due  da 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


KftCiaT    DEC    7  76 

MAR  1  2  1995 

~JfA&   It)jtf5~ 

REC.CIRC.  MAY  2 

51995 

FORM  NO   DD  6,  40m,  6'76  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BER 

BERKELEY,  CA  94720 


JUN 


' 


L-lOOm-7,'33 


YB  20253 


CDS13bS37D 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


